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HISTORICAL  ROMANCES 

OF 

WILLIAM  HARRISON  AINSWORTH 

VOLUME  IV 


THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER 


■ii>y*ifJa,  ti»i^t,  ^UuU'  Jf-Mt^ 


^enrs  bill  Blessing  ^is  JUongliters 


Extending  his  arms  over  his  daughters,  the  ki?ig  said 
somewhat  feebly ,  but  with  great  earnestfiess,  "  My  blessing 
on  ye  both  !  and  may  it  rest  ever  with  ye — ever  !  Only  to 
the  great  Ruler  of  events  is  k?iown  the  destiny  in  store  for 
you.  Both  of  ye  may  be  queens — and  should  it  so  chance, 
ye  will  learn  what  cares  the  crown  brings  with  it.  But 
think  only — as  I  have  ever  done — of  the  welfare  and  glory 
of  your  kingdom,  and  of  your  own  honor,  and  ye  shall 
reign  wisely  and  well. " 


HISTORICAL  ROMANCES 


OF 


WILLIAM    HARRISON   AINSWORTH 


THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER.    IN  ONE  yOLUME.    WITH 

PORTRAIT  BY  HOLBEIN  AND   THREE  ETCHINGS  BY 

GASTON-LOUIS-STEPHANE   RODRIGUEZ  AND 

GEORGES  CHARDON,  AFTER  PAINTINGS 

BY  J.  L  GEROME  FERRIS 


Philadelphia:    Printed  for  Subscribers  only  by 
George  Barrie  &  Sons 


9S5 

A297 
con 
)902 


THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER 

PROLOGUE 

THE  IVILL   OF  HENRY  yill 


Ivi789393 


ygi^ 


CHAPTER  I 


HOW  THE  RIGHT  HIGH  y4ND  RENOIVNED  KING  HENRY  THE 
EIGHTH  WAXED  GRIEVOUSLY  SICK,  AND  WAS  LIKE  TO 
DIE 

The  terrible  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth  drew  to  a  close. 
The  curtain  was  about  to  descend  upon  one  of  the  most  tre- 
mendous dramas  ever  enacted  in  real  life — a  drama  which 
those  who  witnessed  it  beheld  with  wonder  and  awe.  The 
sun  of  royalty,  which  had  scorched  all  it  fell  upon  by  the  fierce- 
ness of  its  mid-day  beams,  was  fast  sinking  into  seas  lighted 
up  by  lurid  fires,  and  deeply  stained  by  blood. 

For  five-and-thirty  years  of  Henry's  tyrant  sway,  no  man 
in  England,  however  high  his  rank,  could  count  his  life 
secure.  Nay,  rather,  the  higher  the  rank,  the  greater  was 
the  insecurity.  Royal  descent,  wealth,  power,  popularity, 
could  not  save  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  from  Henry's  jealous 
fears.  Truly  spake  the  dying  Wolsey  of  his  dread  and  inex- 
orable master — ''Rather  than  miss  or  want  any  part  of  his 
will  or  appetite,  he  will  endanger  the  loss  of  half  his  realm. 
Therefore,  be  well  advised  what  matter  ye  put  in  his  head, 
for  you  shall  never  put  it  out  again."  Henry  was  prone  to 
suspicion,  and  to  be  suspected  by  him  was  to  be  doomed,  for 
he  was  unforgiving  as  mistrustful.  His  favor  was  fatal ;  his 
promises  a  snare  ;  his  love  destruction.  Rapacious  as  cruel, 
and  lavish  as  rapacious,  his  greediness  was  insatiable.  He 
confiscated  the  possessions  of  the  Church,  and  taxed  the  laity 
to  the  uttermost.  The  marvel  is,  that  the  iron  yoke  he  placed 
upon  his  subjects  was  endured.  But  he  had  a  firm  hand,  as 
well  as  a  strong  will.  Crafty  as  well  as  resolute,  he  framed 
laws  merely  to  deride  them  and  break  them.     He  threw  off 

3 


4  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE  TOIVER  iPrologm 

the  Pope's  authority  in  order  to  make  himself  supreme  head 
of  the  Church.  Some  were  executed  by  him  for  maintain- 
ing the  Papal  supremacy,  others  put  to  death  for  denying 
certain  Catholic  tenets.  To  prove  his  even-handed  justice, 
Romanists  and  Lutherans  were  linked  together,  and  conducted 
in  pairs  to  the  stake.  At  one  moment  he  upheld  the  new  doc- 
trines ;  on  the  next,  he  supported  the  old  religion.  Thus  he 
used  the  contending  parties  for  his  own  purposes,  and  made 
each  contribute  to  his  strength.  The  discord  in  the  Church 
pleased  him,  though  he  feigned  to  reprove  it.  His  counsel- 
lors trembled  at  his  slightest  frown,  and  dared  not  for  their 
heads  give  him  honest  advice.  His  parliaments  were  basely 
subservient,  and  confirmed  his  lawless  decrees  without  an  effort 
at  resistance.  A  merciless  system  of  religious  persecution  was 
commenced  and  carried  out  according  to  his  changeful  opin- 
ions. The  fires  at  Smithfield  were  continually  burning.  The 
scaffold  on  Tower  Hill  reeked  with  the  blood  of  the  noble 
and  the  worthy.  The  state  dungeons  were  crowded.  Torture 
was  applied.  Secret  examinations  were  allowed.  Defence 
was  denied  the  accused ;  and  a  bill  of  attainder  smote  the 
unfortunate  person  against  whom  it  was  procured  as  surely  as 
the  axe. 

The  wisest,  the  noblest,  the  bravest,  the  best  of  Henry's 
subjects  were  sacrificed  to  his  resentments  and  caprice.  Up- 
rightness could  not  save  More  and  Fisher,  nor  long  services 
and  blind  obedience,  Wolsey  and  Cromwell.  Age  offered  no 
protection  to  the  octogenarian  Lord  Darcy,  and  piety  failed 
to  preserve  the  abbots  of  Fountains,  Rivaux,  and  Gervaux. 

But  not  alone  did  men  perish  by  the  stem  behests  of  this 
ruthless  tyrant,  this  worse  than  Oriental  despot,  but  women  I 
— ^women  of  incomparable  beauty,  who  had  shared  his  couch, 
and  had  every  claim  upon  his  tenderness  and  compassion. 
But  pity  was  not  in  his  nature.  When  love  was  gone,  dislike 
and  hate  succeeded.  Startling  and  almost  incredible  is  the 
history  of  his  six  marriages.     No  parallel  can  be  found  to 


Chap.  /]  HENRY  AT  THE  POINT  OF  DEATH  5 

it  save  in  wild  and  grotesque  fiction.  It  reads  like  a  Blue- 
beard story,  yet,  alas  !  it  was  fearful  reality.  Katherine  of 
Aragon,  faultless  and  loving,  was  divorced  to  make  way  for 
the  lovely  Anne  Boleyn,  who,  in  her  turn,  was  decapitated  to 
give  place  to  the  resistless  Jane  Seymour.  The  latter  lived 
not  long  enough  to  weary  her  capricious  consort,  but  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Anne  of  Cleves,  whose  want  of  personal  attraction 
caused  the  annulment  of  her  marriage  and  Cromwell's  de- 
struction. Next  came  the  bewitching  Catherine  Howard, 
who  was  butchered  like  Anne  Boleyn ;  and  lastly,  Catherine 
Parr,  saved  only  from  the  block  by  her  own  spirit  and  pru- 
dence, as  will  be  presently  related.  Twice  was  the  nuptial 
knot  forcibly  untied — twice  was  it  sundered  by  the  axe.  Pre- 
texts for  his  violence  were  never  wanting  to  Henry.  But 
the  trials  of  his  luckless  spouses  were  a  mockery  of  justice. 
The  accused  were  prejudged  ere  heard.  The  king's  pleasure 
was  alone  consulted.  From  his  vengeance  there  was  no 
escape. 

When  it  was  a  question  whether  the  beautiful  Jane  Sey- 
mour's life  should  be  preserved,  or  that  of  the  infant  she  was 
about  to  bring  into  the  world,  Henry  unhesitatingly  sacrificed 
the  queen,  brutally  observing,  ' '  that  he  could  readily  get 
other  wives,  but  might  not  have  other  children."  But  not 
only  did  young  and  lovely  women  suffer  from  his  barbarity ; 
venerable  dames  fared  no  better.  Execrable  was  the  manner 
in  which  the  aged  and  dignified  Countess  of  Salisbury  was 
slaughtered. 

A  list  of  Henry's  victims  would  swell  pages :  their  number 
is  almost  incredible.  For  nearly  five-and-thirty  years  had 
this  royal  Bluebeard  ruled  the  land ;  despoiling  the  Church, 
plundering  his  subjects,  trampling  on  the  necks  of  his  nobles, 
disregarding  all  rights,  divorcing  and  butchering  his  wives, 
disgracing  and  beheading  his  ministers ;  yet  all  the  while,  in 
the  intensity  of  his  egotism,  entertaining  the  firm  belief  that 
he  was  one  of  the  wisest  and  most  merciful  of  kings,  and  arro- 


6  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOJVER  iPrologue 

gating  to  himself  the  title  of  Heaven's  vicar  and  High  Min- 
ister on  earth. 

But  the  end  of  this  monstrous  tyranny  approached.  For 
months  the  moody  monarch  had  shut  himself  up  within  his 
palace  at  Westminster  like  a  sick  lion  in  his  den,  and  it  ap- 
peared almost  certain  he  would  never  quit  it  alive.  Nothing 
could  be  gloomier  than  the  present  aspect  of  the  court,  or 
offer  a  greater  contrast  to  its  former  splendor  and  gaiety. 
The  pompous  pageantries  and  shows  erstwhile  exhibited  there 
were  over ;  the  sumptuous  banquets  and  Belshazzar-like  festi- 
vals, of  which  the  monarch  and  his  favorite  attendants  par- 
took, had  ceased  j  boisterous  merriment  was  no  longer  heard 
— laughter  indeed  was  altogether  hushed ;  gorgeously-appar- 
elled nobles  and  proudly-beautiful  dames  no  longer  thronged 
the  halls ;  ambassadors  and  others  were  no  more  admitted  to 
the  royal  presence ;  knightly  displays  were  no  more  made  in 
the  precincts  of  the  palace ;  the  tennis-court  was  unfrequented, 
the  manege-ground  unvisited,  all  the  king's  former  amusements 
and  occupations  were  neglected  and  abandoned.  Music  was 
no  longer  heard  either  within  or  without,  for  light  inspiriting 
sounds  irritated  the  king  almost  to  madness.  Henry  passed 
much  of  his  time  in  his  devotions,  maintaining  for  the  most 
part  a  sullen  silence,  during  which  he  brooded  over  the  past, 
and  thought  with  bitter  regret,  not  of  his  misdeeds  and  cruel- 
ties, but  of  bygone  pleasures. 

Not  more  changed  was  the  king's  court  than  the  king  him- 
self. Accounted,  when  young,  one  of  the  handsomest  princes 
in  Europe,  possessing  at  that  time  a  magnificent  person,  a 
proud  and  majestic  bearing,  and  all  that  could  become  a 
sovereign,  he  was  now  an  unwieldy,  unshapely,  and  bloated 
mass.  The  extraordinary  vigor  of  his  early  days  gave  promise 
of  long  life ;  but  the  promise  was  fallacious.  Formerly  he 
had  been  accustomed  to  take  prodigious  exercise,  and  to  en- 
gage in  all  manly  sports ;  but  of  late,  owing  to  increasing 
obesity,  these  wholesome  habits  were  neglected,  and  could 


Chap.  /]  HENRY  AT  THE  POINT  OF  DEATH  7 

never  be  resumed ;  his  infirmities  offering  an  effectual  bar  to 
their  continuance.  Though  not  positively  intemperate,  Henry- 
placed  little  restraint  upon  himself  in  regard  to  wine,  and 
none  whatever  as  to  food.  He  ate  prodigiously.  Nor  when 
his  life  depended  upon  the  observance  of  some  rules  of  diet 
would  he  refrain. 

Engendered  in  his  frame  by  want  of  exercise,  and  nourished 
by  gross  self-indulgence,  disease  made  rapid  and  fearful  prog- 
ress. Ere  long  he  had  become  so  corpulent,  and  his  limbs 
were  so  much  swollen,  that  he  was  almost  incapable  of  move- 
ment. Such  was  his  weight,  that  machinery  had  to  be  em- 
ployed to  raise  him  or  place  him  in  a  chair.  Doors  were 
widened  to  allow  him  passage.  He  could  not  repose  in  a 
couch  from  fear  of  suffocation ;  and  unceasing  anguish  was 
occasioned  by  a  deep  and  incurable  ulcer  in  the  leg.  Terrible 
was  he  to  behold  at  this  period.  Terrible  to  hear  were  his  cries 
of  rage  and  pain,  which  resembled  the  roaring  of  a  wild  beast. 
His  attendants  came  nigh  him  with  reluctance  and  affright, 
for  the  slightest  inadvertence  drew  down  dreadful  impreca- 
tions and  menaces  on  their  heads. 

But  the  lion,  though  sick  to  death,  was  a  lion  still.  While 
any  life  was  left  him,  Henry  would  not  abate  a  jot  of  the 
sovereign  power  he  had  exercised.  Though  his  body  was 
a  mass  of  disease,  his  faculties  were  vigorous  as  ever ;  his  firm- 
ness was  unshaken,  his  will  absolute.  To  the  last  he  was  true 
to  himself.  Inexorable  he  had  been,  and  inexorable  he 
remained.  His  thirst  for  vengeance  was  insatiable  as  ever, 
while  his  suspicions  were  more  quickly  aroused  and  sharper 
than  heretofore. 

But  during  this  season  of  affliction,  vouchsafed  him,  per- 
chance, for  repentance  from  his  numerous  and  dire  offences, 
there  was  no  endeavor  to  reconcile  himself  with  man,  or 
to  make  his  peace  with  Heaven.  Neither  was  there  any  out- 
ward manifestation  of  remorse.  The  henchmen  and  pages, 
stationed  at  the  doors  of  his  chamber  during  the  long  hours  of 


8  THE  CONST/tBLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         {Prologtu 

night,  and  half  slumbering  at  their  posts,  with  other  watchers 
by  his  side,  were  often  appalled  by  the  fearful  groans  of  the 
restless  king.  But  these  might  be  wrested  from  him  by  pain, 
and  were  no  proof  that  conscience  pricked  him.  Not  a  word 
escaped  his  lips  to  betoken  that  sleep  was  scared  away  by 
the  spectres  of  his  countless  victims.  What  passed  within 
that  dark  and  inscrutable  breast  no  man  could  tell. 


CHAPTER  II 

OF  THE  SNARE  LAID  BY  HER  ENEMIES  FOR  QUEEN  CATH 
ERINE  PARR,  AND  HOIV  SHE  FELL  INTO  IT 

So  alarmed  had  been  the  fair  dames  of  Henry's  court  by  his 
barbarous  treatment  of  his  spouses,  as  well  as  by  the  extraor- 
dinary and  unprecedented  enactment  he  had  introduced  into 
Catherine  Howard's  bill  of  attainder,  that  when  the  royal 
Bluebeard  cast  his  eyes  among  them  in  search  of  a  new  wife, 
they  all  shunned  the  dangerous  distinction,  and  seemed 
inclined  to  make  a  similar  response  to  that  of  the  beautiful 
Duchess  of  Milan,  who  told  Henry,  "that  unfortunately  she 
had  but  one  head, — if  she  had  two,  one  of  them  should  be  at 
his  Majesty's  service.** 

At  length,  however,  one  was  found  of  somewhat  more 
mature  years  than  her  immediate  predecessors,  but  of  un- 
impaired personal  attractions,  who  had  sufficient  confidence 
in  her  discretion,  and  trust  in  her  antecedents,  to  induce  her 
to  venture  on  the  hazardous  step.  This  was  Catherine, 
daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Parr,  of  Kendal,  then  in  her  second 
widowhood,  she  having  married,  in  the  first  instance,  the 
eldest  son  of  Lord  Borough  of  Gainsborough,  and,  on  his 
demise,  the  Lord  Latimer.     By  neither  marriage  had  there 


Chap,  m  PLOT  /iGAINST  CATHERINE  PARR  9 

been  children,  so  no  obstacle  was  offered  to  her  union  with 
the  king  on  this  score.  Henry  espoused  her,  and  was  well 
satisfied  with  his  choice.  In  proof  of  his  high  estimation,  he 
appointed  her  Regent  of  the  kingdom,  prior  to  his  departure 
on  the  expedition  to  France  in  1544,  the  year  after  his  mar- 
riage. 

So  great  was  Catherine  Parr's  prudence,  and  so  careful  her 
conduct,  that  in  spite  of  all  intrigues  against  her,  she  never 
lost  her  influence  over  her  fickle  and  suspicious  spouse.  The 
queen  inclined  to  the  new  doctrines,  and  consequently  those 
who  adhered  to  the  old  religion  became  her  enemies.  But 
she  gave  them  little  ground  for  attack,  and  her  hold  upon  the 
king's  affections  secured  her  against  their  malice.  Age  and 
infirmities  had  subdued  the  violence  of  Henry's  passions : 
hence,  Catherine  had  no  reason  to  fear  lest  she  should  be 
superseded  by  some  more  attractive  rival.  Besides,  she  had 
prudence  enough  to  keep  temptation  out  of  the  king's  way, 
and  she  gradually  and  almost  imperceptibly  gave  a  more 
austere  character  to  his  court  and  entertainments.  It  was  at 
her  instance,  though  Henry  was  scarcely  conscious  of  the 
prompting,  that  the  pageantries  and  festivities  in  which  he 
had  once  so  greatly  delighted  were  discontinued.  As  Henry's 
ailments  increased,  and  he  became  altogether  confined  to  the 
palace,  Catherine  would  fain  have  acted  as  his  nurse,  but  this 
Henry  would  not  permit ;  and  fearing  his  suspicions  might 
be  aroused,  the  queen  did  not  urge  the  point.  But  she  was 
frequently  with  him,  and  ever  ready  to  attend  his  summons. 
Under  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  her  dis- 
course might  have  been  very  profitable  to  the  king  if  he  had 
chosen  to  listen  to  it ;  but  he  would  brook  no  monition,  and 
his  sternness  on  one  or  two  occasions  when  the  attempt  was 
made,  warned  her  to  desist.  But  Catherine  was  somewhat 
of  a  controversialist,  and,  being  well  read  in  theological  mat- 
ters, was  fully  able  to  sustain  a  dispute  upon  any  question  that 
might   arise,  and,  though  she  never  contradicted,  she  not 


lO  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Prologiu 

unfrequently  argued  with  him,  yielding  in  the  end,  as  was 
discreet,  to  his  superior  judgment. 

One  day  she  was  suddenly  summoned  by  the  king,  and, 
accompanied  by  her  confidante.  Lady  Herbert,  she  prepared, 
without  any  misgiving,  to  attend  upon  him. 

Catherine  Parr's  charms  were  of  a  kind  which  is  more  fully 
developed  in  the  summer  of  life  than  in  the  spring.  At  thirty- 
five  she  was  far  handsomer  than  when  she  was  ten  years 
younger.  Her  complexion  was  of  exquisite  clearness,  and  her 
skin  smooth  as  satin ;  her  face  was  oval  in  form,  the  principal 
feature  being  slightly  aquiline ;  her  eyes  were  large,  dark  and 
languid  in  expression,  with  heavy  eyelids,  over-arched  by 
well-defined  jetty  brows.  Her  raven  locks  were  banded  over 
her  marble  forehead,  and  partly  concealed  by  her  rich  head- 
dress. Her  figure  was  tall  and  perfectly  proportioned,  full, 
but  not  over-much.  Her  deportment  was  majestic  and 
queenly,  her  manner  calm,  collected,  almost  cold ;  but,  not- 
withstanding her  gravity  of  aspect  and  staidness  of  demeanor, 
there  was  something  in  Catherine's  looks  that  seemed  to  inti- 
mate that  she  could  smile,  ay,  and  indulge  in  innocent  merri- 
ment, when  alone  among  her  women,  or  unawed  by  her  im- 
perious spouse. 

On  the  present  occasion  she  was  richly  attired,  as  was  her 
wont.  A  circle  of  gold,  ornamented  with  diamonds,  rubies, 
and  small  pearls,  encompassed  her  brows.  Attached  to  this 
coronet  was  a  coif  of  golden  wire,  while  an  embroidered 
couvre-chef  depending  from  it,  completed  her  headgear. 
Her  gown  was  of  gold  damask,  raised  with  pearls  of  damask 
silver,  with  a  long  close-fitting  stomacher,  and  sleeves  tight 
at  the  shoulder,  but  having  loose  hanging  cuffs  of  fur,  beneath 
which  could  be  discerned  slashed  and  puffed  under-sleeves  of 
crimson  satin.  A  necklace  of  jacinth  adorned  her  throat,  and 
her  waist  was  surrounded  by  a  girdle  of  goldsmith's  work, 
with  friar's  knots,  enamelled  black.  A  pomander  box  termi- 
nated the  chain  of  the  girdle,  which  reached  almost  to  the  feet. 


Chap.  Ill  PLOT  AGAWST  CATHERINE  PARR  ii 

Her  attendant,  Lady  Herbert,  sister  to  Henry's  third  wife, 
Jane  Seymour,  and  herself  a  very  lovely  woman,  was  likewise 
richly  habited  in  a  gown  of  chequered  tissue,  fashioned  like 
the  queen's. 

On  Catherine's  entrance  into  the  royal  presence,  Henry 
was  seated  in  his  cumbrous  chair.  Ever  fond  of  rich  habili- 
ments, even  when  laboring  under  mortal  disease,  his  predi- 
lections did  not  desert  him.  A  gown  of  purple  caffa  damask, 
furred  with  sables,  and  having  a  border  embroidered  and 
fringed  with  Venice  gold,  was  thrown  over  his  shoulders. 
His  overgrown  trunk  was  enveloped  in  a  doublet  of  purple 
satin,  embroidered  all  over  with  pearls ;  and  his  lower  limbs 
were  wrapped  in  a  mantle  of  black  cloth  of  gold  upon  bawd- 
kin.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  velvet  skull-cap,  richly  set  with 
pearls  and  other  precious  stones.  But  these  trappings  and 
ensigns  of  royalty  only  served  to  make  the  sick  monarch's  ap- 
pearance more  hideous.  It  was  dreadful  to  look  upon  him  as 
he  sat  there,  with  his  features  so  bloated  as  scarcely  to  retain 
a  vestige  of  humanity,  and  his  enormously  bulky  person.  No 
one  would  have  recognized  in  this  appalling  object  the  once 
handsome  and  majestic  Henry  the  Eighth.  The  only  feature 
unchanged  in  the  king  was  the  eye.  Though  now  deep 
sunken  in  their  orbits,  his  eyes  were  keen  and  terrible  as  ever, 
proving  that  his  faculties  had  lost  none  of  their  force. 

On  the  king' s  right,  and  close  beside  him,  stood  the  astute 
and  learned  Stephen  Gardiner,  who,  though  he  had  signed 
Henry's  divorce  from  Katherine  of  Aragon,  and  written  the 
famous  oration  De  Vera  Ohedientid  in  the  monarch's  behalf, 
was  yet  secretly  devoted  to  the  Romish  faith,  and  strongly 
opposed  to  the  new  doctrines.  Clad  in  his  stole,  scarlet 
chimere,  white  rochet,  and  black  cassock,  he  wore  a  black 
skull-cap  set  low  upon  the  forehead,  and  having  flaps  that 
covered  the  ears  and  neck.  Gardiner  was  singularly  ill- 
favored;  very  swarthy,  beetle-browed,  and  hook-nosed. 
Moreover,  he  had  wide  nostrils,  like  those  of  a  horse,  and  a 


12  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Prologue 

hanging  look.  By  nature  he  was  fierce,  of  great  boldness, 
extremely  zealous  and  indefatigable,  and  enjoyed  much  credit 
with  his  royal  master,  which  he  was  supposed  to  have  em- 
ployed against  the  Reformers. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  monarch  was  stationed  the 
Lord  Chancellor  Wriothesley — pronounced  Wrottesley, — a 
sombre-looking  man,  with  harsh  features,  and  a  high,  bald 
forehead.  Robed  in  a  black  gown,  bordered  with  sable  fur, 
he  had  altogether  the  air  of  a  grand  inquisitor.  As  a  knight 
companion  of  the  Garter,  he  wore  the  George  and  collar 
round  his  neck.  Like  Gardiner,  the  Lord  Chancellor  was 
attached  to  the  old  faith,  and  bitterly,  though  secretly,  hostile 
to  its  opponents.  They  both  entertained  the  belief  that  on 
the  king's  death  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  would  be 
arrested,  and  the  religion  of  Rome  triumphantly  restored; 
and  to  this  end  they  had  plotted  together  to  remove  the  queen, 
as  one  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  the  accomplishment  of  their 
scheme.  They  inflamed  the  king's  mind  against  her  by  re- 
presenting to  him  that  her  majesty  was  in  the  habit  of  secretly 
perusing  religious  books  and  manuscripts  prohibited  by  the 
royal  decree,  offering  him  proof,  if  needed,  of  the  truth  of 
their  assertions;  and  Catherine  herself  unwittingly  played 
into  their  hands  by  the  imprudence  with  which  she  dis- 
cussed certain  points  of  doctrine  with  her  intolerant  spouse, 
stoutly  maintaining  opinions  adverse  to  his  own.  Made 
aware  of  this  by  the  king's  displeasure,  the  plotters  easily 
fanned  the  flame  which  had  been  already  lighted  until  it 
burst  into  a  blaze.  He  uttered  angry  menaces,  and  spoke 
of  a  committal  to  the  Tower.  But  he  would  give  her  one 
chance  of  retrieving  herself.  She  was  summoned,  as  has 
been  stated,  and  on  her  behavior  at  the  interview  hung  her 
sentence. 

As  Catherine  entered,  she  perceived  her  enemies,  and 
feared  that  something  might  be  wrong,  but  an  appearance  of 
unwonted  good-humor  in  the  king  deceived  her.     As  she  ad- 


Chap.  11]  PLOT  AGAimT  CATHERINE  PARR  13 

vanced  and  made  a  lowly  obeisance,  Wriothesley  offered  to 
raise  her,  but  she  haughtily  declined  the  offer. 

**  How  fares  your  Majesty  this  morning?  "  she  inquired. 

**  Marry,  well  enough,"  Henry  replied.  **  We  have  slept 
somewhat  better  than  usual,  and  Butts  thinks  we  are  mending 
apace. ' ' 

**  Not  too  quickly,  my  gracious  liege — ^but  slowly  and 
surely,  as  I  trust, ' '  observed  the  physician,  hazarding  a  glance 
of  caution  at  the  queen,  which  unluckily  passed  unnoticed. 

'*  Heaven  grant  it  be  so  !"  exclaimed  Catherine. 

"Come  and  sit  by  us,  Kate,"  pursued  Henry;  adding  as 
she  placed  herself  on  a  fauteuil  near  him,  *'  You  spoke  so 
well  and  so  convincingly  yesterday,  that  we  would  fain  have 
the  Lord  Chancellor  and  my  Lord  of  Winchester  hear  you. '  * 

'*  We  cannot  fail  to  profit  by  her  Majesty's  discourse,"  re- 
marked Gardiner,  inclining  his  head. 

**  I  would  what  I  shall  say  might  profit  you,  and  the  Lord 
Chancellor  likewise,  for  ye  have  both  need  of  improvement, " 
replied  Catherine,  sharply.  "  If  his  Highness  will  listen  to 
me,  ye  shall  neither  of  you  have  much  more  influence  with 
him,  for  ye  give  him  pernicious  counsel.  As  to  you,  my  Lord 
Chancellor,  a  circumstance  hath  been  told  me  which,  if  it  be 
true,  proves  the  hardness  of  your  heart,  and  must  call  down 
upon  you  his  Majesty's  displeasure.  It  is  said  that  when  Anne 
Askew  underwent  the  torture  in  the  Tower,  and  the  sworn 
tormentor  desisted  and  would  not  further  pursue  his  hateful 
office,  you  yourself  turned  the  wheel  of  the  rack,  and  stretched 
it  to  the  uttermost.  And  this  upon  a  woman — a  gentle,  beau- 
tiful woman.     Oh,  my  Lord,  fie  upon  you  !" 

"I  will  not  deny  the  fact,"  Wriothesley  replied,  "and  I 
acted  only  in  accordance  with  my  duty  in  striving  to  wrest  an 
avowal  of  her  guilt  from  a  mischievous  and  stubborn  heretic, 
who  was  justly  convicted  under  his  Majesty's  statute  of  the  Six 
Articles,  wherein  it  is  enacted  that  whosoever  shall  declare, 
dispute,  or  argue  that  in  the  blessed  sacrament  of  the  altar, 


14  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Prologue 

under  the  form  of  bread  and  wine,  there  is  not  present  really 
the  natural  body  and  blood  of  our  Saviour,  or  that  after 
the  consecration  there  remaineth  any  substance  of  bread  or 
wine,  such  person  shall  be  adjudged  a  heretic,  and  shall  suffer 
death  by  way  of  burning,  without  any  abjuration,  clergy, 
or  sanctuary  permitted.  Yet,  had  Anne  Askew  recanted  her 
errors,  and  submitted  herself  to  the  king's  clemency,  she 
would  doubtless  have  been  spared. ' ' 

"Ay,  marry  would  she!"  cried  Henry.  "The  Lord 
Chancellor  acted  somewhat  roughly,  but  I  see  not  that  he  was 
to  blame.  You  have  no  particular  feeling  for  Anne  Askew,  I 
trust,  Kate?" 

*'I  have  much  sorrow  for  her,  my  liege,"  Catherine  re- 
plied.    '  *  She  died  for  her  faith. ' ' 

"Sorrow  for  a  sacramentarian,  Kate!"  exclaimed  the 
king.  "  Now,  by  holy  Mary !  you  will  next  avouch  that 
you  are  a  sacramentarian  yourself. ' ' 

"Nay,  my  gracious  liege,"  interposed  Gardiner.  "Her 
Majesty  may  feel  pity  for  the  misguided,  but  she  can  never 
uphold  perverse  doctrines." 

"  I  know  not  that,"  replied  the  king.  "  No  longer  than 
yesterday  we  discussed  certain  points  of  theology  together, 
and  she  denied  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation. '  * 

"Your  Majesty  supposed  so,"  observed  Gardiner,  lifting 
up  his  hands.     "  It  could  not  be. ' ' 

"But  I  say  it  was,"  cried  the  king.  "Whence  she 
derived  her  arguments  I  cannot  tell,  but  she  stoutly  main- 
tained them.     Are  ye  a  heretic,  Kate  ?     Confess  at  once  I" 

"This  sounds  like  an  accusation,  my  liege,"  replied  the 
queen,  rising;  "and  I  know  whence  it  comes,"  she  added, 
glancing  at  her  enemies.  "  I  will  answer  it  at  once.  As  the 
Bishop  of  Winchester  well  knows,  I  am  of  the  orthodox  Church, 
of  which  your  Majesty  is  the  supreme  head  and  high  minister. " 

"And  yet  you  deny  the  real  presence  in  the  Eucharist. 
Kate  ? ' '  interrupted  the  king. 


Chap.  II]  PLOT  AGAINST  CATHERINE  PARR  15 

"  I  cannot  believe  that  which  I  do  not  understand,  sire," 
she  replied. 

*'  Ha  !  you  equivocate  !"  exclaimed  Henry.  **  It  is  true  I 
You  are  infected — infected  to  the  core — ^by  these  perverse 
and  heretical  doctrines.  Since  you  pity  Anne  Askew,  and 
deem  her  a  martyr,  you  shall  share  her  fate.  My  statute 
of  the  Six  Articles  spares  none — ^however  high  in  degree. 
Quit  my  presence,  and  enter  it  not  again.  Not  a  word ! 
Begone!" 

And  as  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  her  entreaties,  the  queen 
was  compelled  to  retire,  and  was  led  out  of  the  chamber,  in  a 
half-fainting  state,  by  Lady  Herbert. 

No  sooner  was  she  gone,  than  Gardiner  and  Wriothesley, 
who  had  exchanged  looks  of  satisfaction  during  Henry's 
explosion  of  rage,  drew  near  his  Majesty.  Doctor  Butts  like- 
wise approached  the  king,  and  said  : 

**  Beseech  your  Majesty  to  be  calm.  These  bursts  of  anger 
do  you  infinite  hurt,  and  may  even  endanger  your  life.  *  * 

*'  God's  death  !  man,  how  can  I  be  calm  under  such  pro- 
vocation?" roared  Henry.  "Things  are  come  to  a  pretty 
pass  when  I  am  to  be  schooled  by  my  wife.  I  must  be  ill 
indeed  if  freedoms  like  these,  which  no  one  ever  ventured 
upon  before,  can  be  taken  with  me. ' ' 

*  *  Her  Majesty,  I  am  well  assured,  has  unintentionally 
angered  you,  my  gracious  liege,"  said  Butts.  **  She  will  not 
so  offend  again. ' ' 

**  There  you  are  in  the  right,  doctor,"  rejoined  Henry, 
sternly.     *'  Her  Majesty  will  not  offend  again." 

"  Do  nothing  hastily,  sire,  I  implore  you,"  cried  the  physi- 
cian. 

''Withdraw,  sir,"  returned  the  King.  **  I  have  no  further 
need  of  you  for  the  present. ' ' 

"I  cannot  blame  your  Majesty's  anger,"  observed  Gar- 
diner. '*  It  is  enough  to  move  any  man  to  wrath  to  find  that 
he  has  been  duped,  and  the  queen  has  now  revealed  her  real 


1 6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Prologus 

Opinions  to  you.  She  has  openly  braved  your  displeasure, 
and  you  owe  it  to  yourself  that  her  punishment  be  propor- 
tionate to  her  audacity. ' ' 

**Your  Majesty  cannot  oppose  your  own  decrees,"  said 
Wriothesley,  *'and  the  queen's  infraction  of  them  can  be 
proven.  On  the  night  before  Anne  Askew  was  taken  to  the 
stake,  she  received  a  consolatory  message  from  the  queen, 
and  she  thereupon  sent  a  prohibited  book  to  her  majesty, 
which  the  queen  hath  in  her  possession." 

**  We  will  extirpate  these  heresies  ere  we  die,"  said 
Henry;  **and  if  but  few  hours  are  allowed  us,  by  Heaven's 
grace  they  shall  be  employed  in  purging  the  land  from  the 
pest  that  afflicts  it.  It  is  not  for  nothing  we  have  been 
appointed  Heaven's  vicar  and  high  minister,  as  these  heretics 
shall  find.  We  will  strike  terror  into  them.  We  will  begin 
with  the  queen.  She  shall  have  a  warrant  for  her  arrest. 
Go  both  of  you  to  Sir  Anthony  Denny  to  obtain  it,  and 
bid  him  get  the  instrument  impressed  by  the  keeper  of  our 
secret  stamp." 

*'  It  shall  be  done  as  your  Highness  enjoins,"  said  Wriothes- 
ley.    '*  Is  it  your  pleasure  that  the  arrest  be  made  at  once  ?  " 

"Tarry  till  to-morrow,  I  entreat  your  Majesty,"  inter- 
posed Doctor  Butts,  who  had  yet  lingered,  in  spite  of  the 
king's  order  to  withdraw.  **  Take  a  few  hours  of  reflection  ere 
you  act  thus  severely. ' ' 

"What!  art  thou  still  here,  knave?"  cried  the  king. 
"  Methought  I  ordered  thee  hence." 

"  For  the  first  time  I  have  presumed  to  disobey  you,"  re- 
plied the  physician ;   *' but  I  beseech  you  listen  to  me." 

**If  I  might  counsel  your  Majesty,  I  would  urge  you  to 
carry  out  your  just  resolves  without  delay,"  observed  Gar- 
diner.    "  Good  work  cannot  too  soon  be  begun." 

"Thou  art  right,"  said  the  king.  "Her  Majesty  shall 
sleep  this  night — if  she  sleep  at  all — in  the  Tower.  Get  the 
warrant,  as  I  have  bidden  you,  and  go  afterwards  with  a 


Chap,  in  PLOT  AGAINST  CATHERINE  PARR  17 

guard  to  make  the  arrest.  And  harkye,  forget  not  to  advise 
Sir  John  Gage,  the  Constable  of  the  Tower,  of  the  illustri- 
ous prisoner  he  may  expect,  and  enjoin  him  to  prepare  accord- 
ingly." 

**  Your  behests  shall  be  obeyed,"  said  Wriothesley,  scarcely 
able  to  conceal  his  satisfaction. 

**Sir  John  Gage  is  now  in  the  palace,  if  it  shall  please 
your  Majesty  to  speak  with  him."  Said  Butts. 

'*That  is  lucky,"  replied  the  king;  ** bring  him  to  us 
without  delay." 

With  a  covert  smile  of  defiance  at  the  queen's  enemies, 
Butts  departed  upon  his  errand. 

As  Gardiner  and  Wriothesley  quitted  the  royal  presence, 
the  latter  observed,  in  a  low  tone,  to  his  companion : 

The  queen  is  as  good  as  brought  to  the  block. ' ' 

**Ay,  marry  is  she,"  replied  Gardiner,  in  the  same  tone, 
"  if  what  we  have  done  be  not  undone  by  Gage.  He  is  like 
enough  to  try  and  thwart  our  plans.  The  King  trusts  him  ; 
and  affirms  that  it  was  for  his  incorruptible  honesty  that  he 
made  him  comptroller  of  the  household  and  Constable  of  the 
Tower.  Gage  incorruptible,  forsooth  !  as  if  any  man  living 
— ourselves  excepted — were  incorruptible. ' ' 

**  Gage's  vaunted  honesty  will  not  induce  him  to  oppose 
the  king,"  rejoined  Wriothesley.  **  But  let  him  try,  if  he  be 
so  minded.  He  may  as  well  attempt  to  pull  down  the  solid 
walls  of  the  Tower  itself  as  shake  Henry's  resolution.  And 
now  for  the  warrant  l" 


1 8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER         iProhguc 


CHAPTER  III 

OF  THE  MEANS  OF  AVOIDING  THE  PERIL   PROPOSED  BY 
SIR   THOMAS  SEYMOUR  TO  THE  QUEEN 

In  a  state  of  mind  bordering  almost  upon  distraction,  the 
queen  returned  to  her  own  chamber,  where,  having  hastily- 
dismissed  all  her  attendants  except  Lady  Herbert,  she  aban- 
doned herself  to  despair. 

"  Lost ! — utterly  lost  !'* — she  exclaimed,  in  accents  of  bitter 
anguish.  ''Who  shall  save  me  from  his  wrath?  Whither 
shall  I  fly  to  hide  me  ?  I  shall  share  the  fate  of  my  prede- 
cessors. I  shall  mount  the  same  scaffold  as  Anne  Boleyn  and 
Catherine  Howard.  There  is  no  escape — none.  Well  do  I 
know  the  king  is  inexorable.  No  tears — no  entreaties  will 
move  him.  Pity  me,  dear  Herbert — pity  me.  Help  me  if 
thou  canst,  for  I  am  well-nigh  at  my  wits'  end." 

*  *  I  only  know  one  person  who  might  perchance  help  your 
highness  in  this  direful  extremity,"  replied  Lady  Herbert. 
* '  My  brother.  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  would  lay  down  his  life 
for  you.  He  has  always  longed  for  an  opportunity  of  prov- 
ing his  devotion. ' ' 

''Where  is  Sir  Thomas?"  cried  Catherine.  "Go  bring 
him  to  me  straight.  But  no  ! — it  may  be  dangerous  to  him 
to  approach  me  now." 

'  *  Danger  will  never  deter  my  brother  from  serving  his 
queen,"  Lady  Herbert  rejoined.  "  But  I  need  not  seek  him. 
Without  tarrying  for  your  Majesty's  instructions,  I  have 
despatched  a  page  to  bring  him  hither. ' ' 

"  Thou  hast  done  wrong,  Herbert,"  cried  Catherine.  "  I 
feel  I  ought  not  to  see  him.  And  yet  to  whom  else  can  I 
turn  ?     Heaven  help  me  in  my  need  !" 


Chap.  Ill']  SEYMOUR  AND   THE   QUEEN  19 

**  There  is  no  one,  I  repeat,  upon  whom  your  Majesty  can 
more  fully  rely  than  on  Sir  Thomas  Seymour — that  I  aver, ' ' 
rejoined  Lady  Herbert.     "  He  lives  but  to  serve  you." 

'*  If  your  brother  be  devoted  to  me  as  you  represent,  Her- 
bert, and  as  in  truth  I  believe  him  to  be, ' '  said  the  queen, 
'  *  the  greater  is  the  reason  why  I  should  not  drag  him  into  this 
abyss  with  me.     I  will  not  see  him." 

*' Your  Majesty's  interdiction  comes  too  late,"  said  Lady 
Herbert.     "He  is  here." 

As  the  words  were  uttered,  the  arras  which  covered  a  lat- 
eral entrance  to  the  room  communicating  with  the  ante- 
chamber was  raised,  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  stood  before 
them. 

Beyond  all  question  the  handsomest  and  most  gallant-look- 
ing personage  in  Henry's  court — where  there  were  many  such 
— was  the  haughty  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  younger  brother  of 
the  Earl  of  Hertford.  Possessing  a  tall  and  stately  person. 
Sir  Thomas  had  a  noble  and  highly  picturesque  head,  as  may 
be  seen  in  the  portrait  of  him  by  Holbein.  He  had  the  lofty 
forehead,  the  fine  eyes,  and  the  somewhat  pale  complexion 
which  distinguished  the  Seymours;  but  he  was  the  hand- 
somest of  a  very  handsome  race,  and  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  he  did  not  surpass  in  point  of  personal  appearance 
his  sister,  the  lovely  Jane  Seymour,  to  whom  he  bore  a  marked 
resemblance.  His  features  were  cut  with  extreme  delicacy, 
but  a  manly  character  was  given  them  by  the  long,  brown, 
silky  beard  which  descended  midway  down  his  doublet.  Sir 
Thomas  was  in  the  prime  and  vigor  of  life,  and  of  a  very 
commanding  presence,  and  neglected  no  advantages  which 
could  be  afforded  him  by  rich  habiliments.  He  wore  a  doub- 
let and  hose  of  purple  velvet,  paned  and  cut ;  with  a  cassock 
likewise  of  purple  velvet,  embroidered  with  Venice  gold  and 
bordered  with  fur — and  his  cassock  was  so  fashioned  as  to 
give  exaggerated  breadth  to  the  shoulder — such  being  the 
mode  at  the  time.    His  arms  were  a  long  Spanish  rapier,  with 


ao  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Prologtu 

elaborately  wrought  hilt,  and  dagger.  His  hair  was  shorn 
close,  in  accordance  with  the  fashion  of  the  period,  and  his 
head  was  covered  with  a  flat  velvet  cap,  ornamented  with  a 
balas-ruby  and  a  crimson  plume.  But  this  cap  he  removed 
in  stepping  from  behind  the  arras. 

Third  son  of  Sir  John  Seymour,  of  Wolf  Hall,  in  Wiltshire, 
Sir  Thomas  had  served  with  great  distinction  in  the  late  wars 
with  France.  In  1544 — three  years  before  the  date  of  this 
history — ^he  had  been  made  master  of  the  ordnance  for  life. 
High  in  favor  with  the  king,  and  uncle  to  Prince  Edward, 
heir  to  the  throne,  he  would  have  possessed  much  influence 
and  importance,  had  he  not  been  overshadowed  by  his  elder 
brother,  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  who  stood  foremost  in  Henry's 
regard.  Of  an  aspiring  nature,  however,  equally  bold  and 
unscrupulous,  Seymour  was  greedy  of  political  power,  and  de- 
termined to  have  it  at  any  hazard  and  by  any  means.  A 
daring  conspirator,  he  lacked  cunning  and  temper  sufficient 
to  mask  his  secret  designs.  His  passions  were  fierce;  his 
hatred  undisguised  ;  and  he  had  many  of  the  qualities  of  Cat- 
iline, with  whom  he  was  subsequently  compared.  Haughty 
and  insolent  to  his  inferiors,  he  was  more  popular  with  the 
ancient  nobility  of  Henry's  court  than  the  Earl  of  Hertford, 
who  sought  by  condescension  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
populace.  Such  was  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  then  in  the  prime 
of  manhood,  and  in  the  full  splendor  of  his  noble  personal 
appearance. 

On  beholding  him,  the  queen  rose  to  her  feet,  and  ex- 
claimed, with  almost  frenzied  anxiety,  **  Oh  !  you  are  come, 
Sir  Thomas.  What  news  do  you  bring?  Has  the  king's 
wrath  abated  ?     Is  there  any  hope  for  me  ?  " 

"Alas!  madam,"  Seymour  replied,  flying  towards  her, 
**  it  grieves  me  to  the  soul  to  be  the  bearer  of  such  ill  tidings 
to  your  Majesty.  The  king's  fury  is  as  great  as  ever;  he 
will  not  hear  a  word  in  your  defence  from  Sir  John  Gage,  who 
is  with  him  now.     Your  enemies  have  prevailed  against  you. 


Chap.  Iin  SEYMOUR  AND   THE   QUEEN  21 

The  warrant  is  ordered  for  your  arrest — and  if  the  peril  can- 
not be  averted,  your  august  person  will  be  attached,  and  you 
will  be  taken  forthwith  to  the  Tower.*' 

**  Then  I  am  wholly  lost ! ' '  exclaimed  Catherine.  *'  Oh ! 
Seymour,"  she  continued,  in  a  tone  of  half  reproach,  **I 
looked  to  you  for  aid — ^but  you  offer  none. ' ' 

**I  scarce  dare  offer  such  aid  as  is  alone  in  my  power," 
cried  Seymour,  almost  fiercely;  **yet  circumstances  almost 
seem  to  justify  it.  Say  you  would  have  me  prevent  it,  and 
this  warrant  shall  never  be  executed. '  * 

*'But  how  will  you  prevent  it?"  demanded  the  queen, 
looking  at  him,  as  if  she  would  re?^/l  his  inmost  soul. 

"Ask  me  not  how,  madam,"  rejoined  Sir  Thomas.  **  But 
say  you  would  have  me  die  for  you — and  it  shall  be  done." 

These  words  were  uttered  with  such  terrible  significance, 
that  Catherine  could  not  fail  to  comprehend  their  import. 

"  This  must  not  be,  Seymour  !"  she  exclaimed,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  arm.  '*  You  meditate  some  desperate  design. 
I  charge  you  to  forego  it. " 

*'  'Twere  but  to  stay  the  hand  of  a  ruthless  tyrant,  who  is 
about  to  shed  blood  that  ought  to  be  dearer  to  him  than  his 
own.     Let  me  go,  I  beseech  you,  madam. ' ' 

*'Noj  I  forbid  it — peremptorily  forbid  it.  If  the  king 
remains  inflexible,  I  must  die.  Is  there  no  way  to  move 
him?" 

"You  know  his  flinty  heart  as  well  as  I  do,  madam," 
Seymour  rejoined,  "and  that  he  is  inaccessible  to  all  feelings 
of  humanity.  But  I  will  seek  to  move  him — though  I  much 
fear  the  result. ' ' 

"  Plead  not  for  me  to  your  own  danger,  Seymour.  You 
may  draw  down  the  king's  anger  on  your  own  head." 

"  No  matter,"  replied  Sir  Thomas.  "  I  will  run  any  risk. 
My  life  will  be  well  lost,  if,  by  losing  it,  I  can  profit  your 
Majesty. ' ' 

"  Oh  !  if  I  could  obtain  speech  with  the  king  once  more, 


22  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  ^Prologue 

I  should  not  despair  of  melting  his  heart,  hard  though  it 
be  !"  said  Catherine.     **  But  he  will  not  see  me." 

**He  has  given  peremptory  orders  against  your  admit- 
tance," rejoined  Seymour;  **and  the  guard  and  henchmen 
dare  not  for  their  lives  disobey  the  mandate.  Yet  you  must 
see  him,  and  that  speedily — ^but  how  ? — Ha  !  I  have  it ! " 
he  exclaimed,  after  a  moment's  pause,  as  if  struck  with  a 
sudden  idea.  ''What  will  you  say  if  I  bring  the  king  to 
you?" 

**That  you  have  wrought  a  miracle,"  replied  Catherine. 
**  But  I  pray  you  trifle  not  with  me,  Seymour." 

'*  I  trifle  not,  gracious  madam,"  rejoined  Sir  Thomas, 
earnestly.  "  I  have  strong  hopes  of  success.  But  you  must 
second  the  scheme.  I  will  at  once  to  his  majesty,  and 
represent  to  him  that  the  terrible  shock  you  have  sustained  has 
been  too  much  for  you,  and  brought  you  to  the  point  of  death 
— that  you  seek  forgiveness  from  him,  but  as  you  cannot 
come  to  him,  you  humbly  supplicate  him  to  come  to  you. ' ' 

''But  he  will  not  come,"  cried  Catherine,  with  something 
of  hope  in  the  exclamation. 

"  I  think  he  will,"  said  Lady  Herbert. 

"I  am  sure  he  will,"  added  Seymour.  "When  he  ap- 
pears, submit  yourself  entirely  to  him.  I  leave  the  rest  to 
your  sagacity.  If  you  have  letters  about  you  from  Anne 
Askew,  or  Joan  Bocher,  or  any  prohibited  book,  give  them 
tome." 

"Here  is  a  letter  from  the  poor  martyr,  and  a  book  of 
prayer,  blotted  with  her  tears, ' '  replied  the  queen,  giving  the 
articles  in  question  to  Seymour,  who  placed  them  in  the 
silken  bag  that  hung  from  his  girdle;  "keep  them  for  me 
until  some  happier  day,  or  keep  them  in  memory  of  me  ! ' ' 

"  Speak  not  thus,  madam,  or  you  will  rob  me  of  my  cour- 
age, and  I  shall  need  it  all, ' '  rejoined  Seymour,  kneeling,  and 
pressing  the  hand  she  extended  to  him  reverentially  to  his 
lips.      '  'At  some  happier  season,  when  all  such  storms  as  this 


Chap.  /K]     IVRIOTHESLEY  /IND  GARDINER  FOILED  23 

have  passed,  I  may  venture  to  remind  you  of  the  service  I  am 
about  to  render. ' ' 

*  *  Fear  not  I  shall  forget  it, ' '  replied  Catherine,  with  some 
tenderness.     '  *  Go  !  and  Heaven  prosper  your  efforts  ! ' ' 

And  with  a  profound  obeisance,  and  a  look  of  unutterable 
devotion.  Sir  Thomas  withdrew. 

Though  Catherine  was  by  no  means  so  sanguine  of  the 
success  of  Seymour's  scheme  as  he  and  his  sister  appeared  to 
be,  she  nevertheless  prepared  for  the  part  she  might  be  called 
upon  to  play.  The  rest  of  her  attendants  were  hastily  sum- 
moned by  Lady  Herbert,  and  were  informed  that  their  royal 
mistress  was  dangerously  ill.  With  every  demonstration  of 
grief,  the  weeping  women  gathered  round  the  couch  on  which 
Catherine  had  extended  herself,  and  would  fain  have  offered 
her  restoratives ;  but  she  refused  their  aid,  and  would  not  allow 
her  physician  to  be  sent  for,  declaring  she  desired  to  die. 
In  this  way  full  half  an  hour  was  spent — an  age  it  seemed 
to  the  queen,  who  was  kept  on  the  rack  of  expectation. 

At  length,  and  just  as  Catherine's  heart  had  begun  to  sink 
within  her,  a  noise  was  heard  without,  and  Lady  Herbert 
whispered  in  her  ear,  *'  It  is  the  king  !  My  brother  has 
succeeded. ' ' 


CHAPTER  IV 


HOW  THE  DESIGNS  OF  IVRIOTHESLEY  AND  GARDINER  IVERE 
FOILED  BY  THE  QUEEN'S  IVIT 

Presently  afterwards,  a  double  door  communicating  with 
the  gallery  was  thrown  open  by  two  henchmen,  giving  ad- 
mittance to  a  gentleman  usher,  wand  in  hand,  and  glitter- 
ing in  cloth  of  gold  and  tissue,  who  announced  the  king's 
approach :  and  in  another  minute  Henry  appeared,  moving 


24   .  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  IPrologm 

very  slowly  and  with  great  difficulty,  supported  between  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  on  whose  shoulders  he  leaned,  and  a  man 
of  large  frame,  and  such  apparent  strength,  that  he  seemed 
perfectly  able  to  lift  the  unwieldly  monarch  from  the  ground 
should  he  chance  to  stumble. 

Sir  John  Gage — for  he  was  the  stalwart  personage  on  the 
king's  right — ^had  a  soldier-like  air  and  deportment,  and  that 
he  had  seen  service  was  evident  from  the  scars  on  his  cheek 
and  brow.  His  features  were  handsome,  but  of  an  iron  cast, 
and  singularly  stern  in  expression.  His  beard  was  coal-black, 
and  cut  like  a  spade.  He  was  attired  in  a  doublet  of  tawny- 
colored  satin,  a  furred  velvet  cassock  of  the  same  hue,  and 
orange-tawny  hose.  He  was  armed  with  rapier  and  dagger, 
and  below  the  left  knee  wore  the  Garter.  Appointed  master 
of  the  wards  and  Constable  of  the  Tower  in  1540,  soon  after 
the  fall  of  Cromwell,  Sir  John  Gage  was  likewise  made,  at  a 
later  date,  comptroller  of  the  household,  and  filled  these  im- 
portant offices  to  the  king's  entire  satisfaction.  His  rough, 
blunt  manner,  and  fearlessness  of  speech,  contrasting  forcibly 
with  the  servility  and  obsequiousness  of  his  other  courtiers, 
pleased  Henry,  who  would  brook  some  difference  of  opinion 
from  his  own,  provided  he  was  firmly  convinced,  as  in  this 
instance,  of  the  speaker's  honesty. 

The  king  paused  for  a  moment  at  the  doorway  to  recover 
his  strength,  aud  during  this  interval  his  looks  were  anxiously 
scrutinized  by  Lady  Herbert ;  but  nothing  favorable  could  be 
read  in  his  bloated  and  cadaverous  countenance.  He  was 
enveloped  in  a  loose  gown  of  crimson  velvet,  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  lined  and  bordered  with  minever,  and  made 
of  such  length  and  amplitude  that  it  concealed  his  swollen 
person.  If  Lady  Herbert  failed  to  discover  anything  but 
what  was  formidable  in  Henry's  inscrutable  countenance,  she 
gathered  hope  from  her  brother's  significant  glance,  and 
whispered  in  the  queen's  ear  as  she  feigned  to  raise  her, 
"Be  of  good  cheer,  madam.     All  goes  well.^' 


Chap.  /K]    IVRIOTHESLEY  AND  GARDINER  FOILED  25 

By  the  help  of  his  supporters,  Henry  once  more  put  him- 
self in  motion,  and  advanced  slowly  towards  the  couch  on 
which  Catherine  was  laid,  surrounded  by  her  women,  and 
apparently  almost  in  a  state  of  insensibility.  He  was  followed 
by  Doctor  Butts.  The  king  had  not  gone  far  ere  he  again  halted 
from  weakness  and  want  of  breath,  and,  on  recovering,  he 
ordered  Butts  to  see  to  the  queen,  and  send  away  her  noisy 
and  wailing  women. 

On  approaching  Catherine,  the  physician  instantly  compre- 
hended the  trick  put  upon  the  king,  but  so  far  from  betray- 
ing it,  he  lent  his  best  aid  to  carry  out  the  stratagem.  Caus- 
ing her  to  breathe  at  a  phial,  he  fixed  his  eyes  meaningly  upon 
her  as  she  revived,  as  if  counselling  her  how  to  act. 

"There,  you  are  better  now,  gracious  madam,"  he  said. 

*'You  waste  your  skill  upon  me,  good  Doctor  Butts," 
Catherine  replied,  in  a  faint  voice.  **  I  am  sinking  fast. 
Nothing  but  the  king's  forgiveness  can  revive  me,  and  that  I 
shall  never  obtain.  One  kindly  word  from  him  would  soothe 
my  agony  and  reconcile  me  to  my  fate.  But  since  I  may  not 
see  him,  tell  him,  good  sir,  that  I  died  blessing  him ;  that 
I  have  never  knowingly  disobeyed  him ;  and  that  to  feel  I 
have  offended  him,  albeit  unwittingly,  has  broken  my  heart. ' ' 

**  Madam,  your  words  have  already  reached  the  king's 
ear,"  replied  Butts,  "and  I  doubt  not  will  be  favorably 
received." 

"Ay,  Kate,"  cried  Henry,  "  I  come  to  bid  thee  live." 

"Your  Majesty  here  !"  exclaimed  the  queen,  slightly  rais- 
ing herself.     "Then  indeed  I  shall  die  content." 

"  Talk  not  of  dying,  Kate,"  rejoined  he.  "  Our  physician 
shall  bring  thee  round." 

"A  few  words  from  your  lips,  my  liege,  will  accomplish 
more  than  all  my  art  can  effect,  * '  said  Butts. 

"Raise  me,  I  pray  you,"  said  Catherine  to  the  physician 
and  Lady  Herbert,  "and  let  me  throw  myself  at  the  king's 
feet  to  implore  his  pardon." 


26  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER         IProhgue 

"  Nay,  by  Our  Lady,  there  is  no  need  of  it,  Kate,"  cried 
the  king,  with  some  show  of  kindness.  **  Set  me  a  chair 
beside  the  queen,"  he  added,  **and  bring  me  to  it.  Soh! 
Kate,"  he  continued,  as  his  commands  were  obeyed,  '*  ye  see 
your  error,  and  repent  it? — ha !" 

"  Most  truly,  my  gracious  lord  and  husband,"  she  replied. 
•'*  Yet  while  acknowledging  my  fault,  and  humbly  entreating 
forgiveness  for  it,  I  must  needs  say  that  I  have  erred  from  in- 
advertence, not  design.  'Twas  but  a  seeming  contradiction 
of  your  Majesty  that  I  ventured  on.  I  argued  but  to  draw 
you  forth,  as  well  to  benefit  myself  by  your  able  and  unanswer- 
able expositions,  as  to  make  you  forget  for  awhile  the  pain 
of  your  ailment.  This  I  did  at  the  instigation  of  Doctor 
Butts,  who  will  bear  me  out  in  what  I  say." 

''That  will  I,"  cried  the  physician.  **I  counselled  her 
Highness  to  argue  with  your  Majesty — yea,  and  to  contradict 
you — in  the  hope  of  diverting  your  thoughts  from  yourself, 
and  giving  you  a  brief  respite  from  suffering. ' ' 

**Then  thou  art  the  true  culprit.  Butts,"  cried  the  king. 
**  By  the  rood  !  but  that  I  need  thee,  thou  shouldst  pay  the 
penalty  of  thy  folly.  Thus  much  thou  art  freely  forgiven, 
Kate  j  but  other  matter  yet  remains  to  be  explained.  Art 
thou  a  sectary  and  sacramentarian  ?  Hast  thou  received  let- 
ters and  prohibited  books  from  Anne  Askew  ?  *  * 

"Whence  comes  this  accusation,  sire?"  rejoined  Cathe- 
rine. "  From  my  mortal  enemies  the  Lord  Chancellor  and 
the  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Let  them  prove  the  charge  against 
me,  and  I  will  submit  without  a  murmur  to  any  punishment 
your  Majesty  may  choose  to  inflict.  But  I  defy  their 
malice." 

"Enough!"  exclaimed  Henry ;  "thou  hast  removed  all 
my  doubts,  and  we  are  perfect  friends  again.  Content  thee, 
Kate — content  thee  !  Thou  shalt  have  ample  vengeance  on 
thine  enemies.     I  swear  it — on  my  bead  !" 

"Nay,  I  entreat  your  Majesty  be  not  angry  with  them," 


Chap,  ly]    IVRIOTHESLEY  AND  GARDINER  FOILED  27 

said  the  queen.  '*  I  am  so  happy  in  the  restoration  to  your 
love,  that  I  cannot  harbor  a  vindictive  thought.  Pardon 
them,  I  pray  of  you. ' ' 

*'They  deserve  not  your  generosity,  Kate,'*  rejoined 
Henry.  *'But  thou  art  not  forgiven  for  thy  share  in  this 
matter.  Butts,**  he  continued.  **  Look  you  bring  the  queen 
round  quickly — ^look  that  she  suffer  not  from  this  mischance 
— ^look  to  it  well,  I  say. ' ' 

'*  I  have  no  fear  now,  my  liege,"  replied  Butts.  '*  Your 
Majesty  has  proved  the  better  physician  of  the  two.  Under 
the  treatment  you  have  adopted,  I  will  answer  for  the  queen's 
perfect  recovery." 

"That  is  well,"  Henry  rejoined.  **Ha!  what  noise  is 
that  in  the  gallery  ?     Who  dares  come  hither  ?  ' ' 

**  Your  Majesty  forgets,"  remarked  Sir  John  Gage. 

"Right,  right,  I  had  forgotten.  *Tis  Wriothesley  and 
Gardiner.  They  shall  see  how  we  will  welcome  them.  Ad- 
mit the  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  and 
those  with  them,*'  he  roared. 

As  the  order  was  given,  the  folding-doors  were  again 
thrown  open,  and  the  two  personages  mentioned  by  the  king, 
entered,  followed  by  a  guard  of  halberdiers.  Wriothesley  held 
the  warrant  in  his  hand.  On  beholding  the  king,  they  both 
stopped  in  much  confusion,  perceiving  at  once  that  the  tables 
were  turned  upon  them. 

"How  now?"  exclaimed  the  king,  derisively.  "Why 
do  you  hesitate  ?     About  your  business  quickly. '  * 

"  We  would  fain  know  your  Majesty's  pleasure  ere  proceed- 
ing further,'*  said  Wriothesley. 

"  My  pleasure  !**  vociferated  Henry.  "  False  traitors  and 
evil  counsellors  that  ye  are,  my  pleasure  would  be  to  clap  ye 
both  in  the  Tower,  and  but  for  her  Majesty's  intercession 
ye  should  be  sent  thither  under  the  conduct  of  the  very  guard 
ye  have  brought  with  you.  Your  machinations  are  discovered 
and  defeated." 


28  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOfVER  [Prologm 

'*  Beseech  your  Majesty  to  grant  us  a  hearing  ?  ' '  said  Gard- 
iner. 

"No,  I  will  not  hear  you,"  rejoined  the  king,  fiercely. 
**  Deliver  up  that  warrant  which  was  obtained  on  your  false 
representation. ' ' 

'*I  deny  that  it  was  obtained  by  any  such  means,  my 
liege,"  replied  Wriothesley.  **  Nevertheless,  as  is  my  duty, 
I  obey  your  behests.  * ' 

And  he  delivered  the  warrant  to  Sir  John  Gage,  by  whom 
it  was  instantly  torn  in  pieces. 

"  Begone  !"  exclaimed  Henry,  "  or  I  will  not  answer  how 
far  my  provocation  may  carry  me.  Begone  !  and  take  with 
you  the  conviction  that  your  scheme  has  failed — ^and  that  all 
such  schemes  are  certain  of  failure. ' ' 

And  seeing  that  it  was  in  vain  to  urge  a  word  in  their  de- 
fence, the  baffled  enemies  of  the  queen  retired. 

*  *  Are  ye  content,  Kate  ?  ' '  Henry  inquired,  as  soon  as  they 
were  gone.  And  receiving  a  grateful  response,  he  added, 
*'  Fear  not  henceforward  to  dispute  with  us  on  points  of  doc- 
trine. We  shall  be  ever  ready  for  such  arguments,  and  you 
have  our  physician's  word,  as  you  wot,  that  they  do  us 
good." 

"  Pray  Heaven  your  highness  may  not  suffer  from  the  effort 
you  have  made  in  coming  to  me  ! ' '  said  Catherine. 

**  Nay,  by  my  life,  I  am  the  better  for  it,"  Henry  rejoined. 
*  *  But  I  must  quit  you  now,  sweetheart.  I  have  another  matter 
to  decide  on — no  less  than  the  committal  of  his  Grace  of 
Norfolk  and  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  to  the  Tower. ' ' 

**  More  work  for  me  for  your  Majesty,"  observed  Sir  John 
Gage,  bluntly.      '*  Yet  I  would  this  might  be  spared  me." 

**How  so.  Sir  John?"  cried  the  king.  *'What  liking 
have  ye  for  these  traitors  ? ' ' 

* '  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  they  are  traitors,  my  liege, ' '  re- 
plied Gage,  boldly.  *'As  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  is  first  among 
your  peers,  so  he  has  ever  been  foremost  in  zeal  and  devotion 


Chap,  /r]     IVRIOTHESLEY  AND  GARDINER  FOILED  29 

to  your  Majesty.  Methinks  his  long  services  ought  to  weigh 
somewhat  with  you." 

*'  His  Grace's  services  have  been  well  requited,  Sir  John/' 
interposed  Seymour.  "  Know  you  not  the  grave  charges 
against  him  ?  * ' 

*'  I  know  well  that  you  and  your  brother,  the  Earl  of  Hert- 
ford, are  his  enemies,  and  would  rejoice  in  his  downfall," 
answered  the  Constable  of  the  Tower. 

''Peace,  both  of  ye!"  cried  the  king.  "The  charge 
against  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  which  hath  been  proven  to  our 
satisfaction,  is,  that  contrary  to  his  oath  and  allegiance  to  us, 
he  hath  many  times — mark  that.  Sir  John — many  times  be- 
trayed the  secrets  of  our  privy  councils — the  privy  council, 
Sir  John — to  our  great  peril,  and  to  the  infinite  detriment  of 
our  affairs. ' ' 

*'  His  Grace  may  have  spoken  unguardedly — so  might  any 
of  us " 

*'  Not  you.  Sir  John,"  interrupted  the  king,  dryly.  "  You 
never  speak  unguardedly,  I'll  answer  for  it." 

'*I  never  speak  untruthfully,  my  liege,"  rejoined  Gage. 
*'And  I  dare  affirm  that  although  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  may 
have  babbled  of  matters  about  which  he  had  better  have  held 
his  tongue,  he  has  never  been  wanting  in  fidelity  and  loyalty 
to  your  Highness. ' ' 

"You  know  only  part  of  the  duke's  heinous  offences,  or 
you  would  not  say  so  much  in  his  defence.  Sir  John,"  said 
Seymour.  "  Learn,  then,  that  to  the  peril,  slander,  and  dis- 
herison of  his  Majesty  and  his  noble  son.  Prince  Edward, 
heir-apparent  to  the  throne,  his  aspiring  Grace  of  Norfolk 
hath  unjustly,  and  without  authority,  borne  in  the  first  quarter 
of  his  arms  the  arms  of  England,  which  are  the  proper  arms 
of  Prince  Edward." 

* '  Is  this  some  new  discovery  you  have  made,  Sir  Thomas  ? '  * 
inquired  Gage.  **  Methinks  you  must  have  seen  the  duke's 
blazon  ever  since  you  bore  arms  yourself." 


30  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  iPrologm 

'*  The  matter  is  not  new,  we  grant,"  said  the  king,  sternly ; 
**  but  we  view  it  now  with  different  eyes.  We  discern  peril  in 
this  audacious  act.  We  see  in  it  pretended  claims  to  be 
brought  forth  hereafter — disturbance  to  the  realm — interrup- 
tion to  our  son's  inheritance  to  the  crown.  We  see  this 
plainly,  and  will  crush  it." 

'*  With  all  submission,  I  do  not  think  that  the  duke  hath 
had  any  such  daring  presumption,"  observed  the  Constable 
of  the  Tower.  "  But  touching  the  Earl  of  Surrey :  in  what 
hath  that  peerless  nobleman  offended  ? ' ' 

"  Peerless  you  well  may  call  him,"  cried  Henry;  **  for  in 
his  own  conceit  he  hath  never  a  peer.  Why  could  not  his 
ambition  content  itself  with  shining  in  Phoebus'  court  ?  Why 
should  it  soar  so  high  in  ours  ?  His  treason  is  the  same  as  his 
father's.  He  hath  quartered  in  his  shield  the  arms  of  Edward 
the  Confessor,  denoting  pretensions  to  the  crown. '  * 

**  What  more?"  demanded  the  Constable  of  the  Tower. 

*'What  more!"  repeated  Henry.  *'Is  not  that  enough? 
But  since  you  lack  further  information.  Sir  Thomas  Sey- 
mour shall  give  it  you.  Tell  him  what  thou  knowest.  Sir 
Thomas." 

"  It  were  too  long  to  tell  all,  my  liege,"  replied  Seymour. 
"  In  regard  to  his  arms,  instead  of  a  duke's  coronet,  Surrey 
has  put  a  cap  of  maintenance  purple,  with  powdered  fur,  and 
a  close  crown,  and  underneath  the  arms  the  king's  cipher." 

"You  hear?"  cried  Henry,  sternly. 

"Let  me  propound  these  questions  to  Sir  John  Gage," 
pursued  Seymour.  **  If  a  man  shall  compass  to  rule  the  realm, 
and  go  about  to  rule  the  king,  what  imports  it  ?  Again,  if 
the  same  man  shall  declare  that  if  the  king  dies,  none  shall 
have  the  rule  of  the  prince  save  his  father  and  himself — ^what 
imports  it  ?  Again,  if  that  man  shall  say,  '  If  the  king  were 
dead  I  would  shortly  shut  up  the  prince' — what  imports  it?" 

"Treason — arrant  treason,"  replied  Gage. 

**  Then,  all  this  and  more  of  the  same  treasonous  stuff  hath 


Chap,  ly]    IVRIOTHESLEY  AND  GARDINER  FOILED  31 

Surrey  uttered/'  rejoined  Seymour.  "He  hath  sought  to 
bring  about  a  union  *twixt  myself  and  his  sister,  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond,  in  order  that  he  might  have  more  influence 
with  the  King's  Highness." 

**Is  this  indeed  true,  Sir  Thomas?*'  inquired  Catherine, 
quickly. 

"Ay,  madam,*'  he  replied.  "But  failing  in  his  scheme, 
the  earl  thenceforth  became  my  mortal  enemy,  reviling  me 
and  my  brother  Hertford,  and  vowing  that,  if  Heaven  should 
call  away  the  king,  he  would  avenge  himself  upon  us  and  all 
the  upstart  nobility,  as  he  insolently  styles  us.  He  hates  us 
— ^bitterly  hates  us  for  our  love  to  the  king,  and  for  the  favor 
shown  us  by  his  Highness.  He  says  his  Majesty  has  had  ill 
counsels.** 

"  How  say  you  now,  Sir  John ? **  cried  Henry.  "Are  you 
not  satisfied  that  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  his  son  are  a  couple 
of  traitors  ? '  * 

"Humph  I  not  altogether,'*  rejoined  the  constable. 

"You  are  hard  to  be  convinced.  Sir  John,"  said  Seymour. 
"  But  think  not,  though  I  have  spoken  of  myself  and  my 
brother  Hertford,  that  I  have  any  personal  enmity  to  Surrey, 
much  less  any  fear  of  him.  But  he  is  a  traitor  and  dissem- 
bler. One  of  his  servants  hath  been  in  Italy  with  Cardinal 
Pole,  and  hath  been  received  again  on  his  return.  Moreover, 
he  hath  Italian  spies  in  his  employ,  and  is  in  secret  corre- 
spondence with  Rome.** 

"Are  ye  still  incredulous?  **  demanded  Henry. 

"I  know  not  what  to  say,"  replied  the  constable,  in  a 
troubled  tone.  "But  I  fear  me  much  that  both  are  con- 
demned." 

"  Come  with  us  to  the  Council,  and  you  shall  hear  more," 
said  Henry.  "You  seem  to  doubt  our  justice,  but  you  shall 
find  that  we  never  punish  without  good  cause,  nor  ever  allow 
the  greatness  of  the  offender  to  shield  him  from  just  punish- 
ment.     Fare   ye   well,   sweetheart,   for  a  while.     Get  well 


32  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOPVER  [Prologs 

quickly,  an  you  love  us  !  Give  me  your  arm,  Butts ;  and 
yours.  Sir  John." 

Upon  this  he  was  raised  with  some  difficulty  from  his  seat, 
and,  supported  between  the  two  persons  he  had  named,  he 
moved  slowly  out  of  the  room. 

When  his  back  was  turned,  Seymour  drew  somewhat  nearer 
to  the  queen. 

*' You  have  saved  my  life,  Sir  Thomas,"  said  Catherine, 
in  a  low  tone,  and  with  a  look  of  deep  gratitude.  **How 
can  I  pay  the  debt  I  owe  you  ? ' ' 

**  There  is  small  merit  in  the  service,  madam,"  he  replied, 
in  a  low,  impassioned  voice.  * '  I  have  saved  you  because  your 
life  is  dearer  to  me  than  my  own.  I  may  claim  a  reward — 
but  not  now  !  '  * 

And  with  a  profound  obeisance  he  retired,  casting  a  part- 
ing look  at  the  queen  as  he  passed  through  the  door. 


CHAPTER  V 

OF  THE  INTERyiEfV  BETIVEEN  THE  EARL  OF  SURREY  AND 
SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR  IN  THE  BOPVYER  TOWER 

A  bitter  rivalry  had  long  existed  between  the  newly  en- 
nobled house  of  Seymour  and  the  ancient  and  illustrious  house 
of  Howard.  Not  less  distinguished  for  exalted  rank  than  re- 
nowned as  a  military  commander,  the  high-bom  Duke  of 
Norfolk  looked  down  with  scorn  upon  the  new  nobility,  hold- 
ing them  unworthy  to  be  ranked  with  him ;  and  his  senti- 
ments were  shared  by  his  chivalrous  and  accomplished  son. 
Earl  Surrey,  "  of  the  deathless  lay,"  who,  proud  as  his  father, 
was  of  a  yet  more  fiery  temper.  But  the  duke  soon  found 
that  the  elder  Seymour  was  not  an  enemy  to  be  despised. 


Chap.  K]  SEYMOUR'S  OFFER   TO  SURREY  33 

The  Earl  of  Hertford's  influence  with  the  king  increased, 
while  that  of  Norfolk  declined.  When  Catherine  Howard 
perished  on  the  block,  the  duke,  her  uncle,  who  had  brought 
about  the  ill-starred  match,  fell  into  disfavor  with  the  vin- 
dictive monarch,  and  never  regained  the  place  he  had  hith- 
erto held  in  Henry's  regard. 

There  was  another  ground  of  quarrel  between  the  rival 
houses.  The  Howards  continued  firm  in  their  adherence  to 
the  Church  of  Rome  ;  and  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  who  was 
looked  upon  as  the  head  of  the  Catholics,  and  who  hated  the 
Reformers,  made  himself  obnoxious  by  his  rigor  towards  the 
sacramentarians.  Hertford,  on  the  other  hand,  as  much  as 
he  dared,  upheld  the  new  doctrines  and  supported  the  Prot- 
estant party.  On  religious  questions,  the  king  gave  pre- 
dominance to  neither  side ;  but  setting  one  against  the  other, 
was  equally  severe  with  both. 

This  state  of  things  endured  for  a  time  without  any  decisive 
blow  being  struck  by  his  enemy  against  the  powerful  duke. 
But  when  Henry's  increasing  infirmities  made  it  evident  that 
his  dissolution  could  not  be  far  off,  the  immediate  and  total 
overthrow  of  the  house  of  Howard  was  resolved  upon  by 
Hertford.  As  elder  uncle  of  the  young  Prince  Edward,  then 
only  in  his  tenth  year,  Hertford  had  secretly  determined  to 
become  Lord  Protector,  and  thereby  enjoy  the  supreme  power 
of  the  realm.  He  could  rely  upon  the  chief  part  of  the 
council  for  support,  but  he  well  knew  he  should  encounter 
formidable  opposition  from  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  Moreover, 
both  the  duke  and  his  son  had  rashly  menaced  Hertford 
and  his  associates,  declaring  that  the  time  for  vengeance 
was  at  hand,  and  that  they  should  shortly  smart  for  their 
audacity. 

Henry,  whose  affections  had  been  artfully  estranged  from 

the  Howards,  lent  a  ready  ear  to  the  charges  brought  against 

Norfolk  and  Surrey  by  the  agency  of  Hertford,  and  without 

weighing  the  duke's  long- tried  zeal   and   fidelity,  and  the 

3 


34  7"//E  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOJVER  [Prologua 

many  important  services  he  had  rendered  him,  signed  the 
articles  of  accusation  brought  against  father  and  son,  causing 
them  both  to  be  suddenly  arrested,  and  lodged  in  separate 
prisons  in  the  Tower. 

Arraigned  in  Guildhall  before  Lord  Chancellor  Wriothesley^ 
the  Lord  Mayor,  and  other  commissioners,  the  Earl  of  Surrey 
vehemently  and  eloquently  defended  himself,  denying  the 
charges  brought  against  him,  and  offering  to  fight  his  principal 
accuser,  Sir  Richard  Southwell,  in  his  shirt.  But  his  defence 
availed  him  nothing.  As  had  been  foreseen,  he  was  found 
guilty  of  high  treason,  condemned  to  death,  and  taken  back 
to  the  Tower  to  await  his  execution. 

But  though  the  gallant  Surrey  was  thus  sentenced,  more 
difficulty  was  experienced  in  bringing  condemnatory  matter 
against  his  father.  Immured  within  a  cell  in  the  Beauchamp 
Tower,  treated  with  great  rigor,  subjected  to  frequent  private 
examinations,  kept  in  entire  ignorance  of  the  names  of  his 
accusers,  and  even  of  the  accusations  brought  against  him, 
denied  all  access  to  his  son,  or  communication  with  him,  the 
duke  at  last  succumbed,  and  a  confession  of  guilt,  under 
promise  of  pardon,  was  extorted  from  him.  But  this  promise, 
solemnly  given  by  Hertford,  was  not  intended  to  be  kept. 
On  the  contrary,  the  confession  was  to  be  made  the  means  of 
Norfolk's  destruction.  Moved,  perhaps,  by  some  feelings  of 
compassion  for  his  old  favorite,  and  still  more  by  the  duke's 
humble  submission,  Henry  hesitated  to  sign  his  death-warrant. 
But  with  the  rapacity  which  characterized  him  to  the  last,  he 
had  not  neglected  to  seize  upon  the  duke's  houses,  and  con- 
fiscate his  treasures.  Norfolk,  however,  contrived  to  balk  his 
enemies  of  the  spoil  they  anticipated.  Well  aware  that  Hert- 
ford and  his  associates  counted  upon  dividing  his  large  pos- 
sessions among  them,  he  petitioned  the  king  that  the  estates 
might  be  settled  upon  Prince  Edward;  and  the  request  ap- 
peared so  reasonable  to  Henry,  that  it  was  immediately 
granted.     But  the  duke's  life  was  still  in  jeopardy,  dependent 


Chap.  K]  SEYMOUR'S  OFFER  TO  SURREY  35 

upon  the  will  of  a  fickle  tyrant,  who  might  at  any  moment 
surrender  him  to  the  enemies  who  panted  for  his  blood. 

Leaving  him,  however,  in  this  state  of  dreadful  incertitude, 
we  must  go  back  to  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  whose  fate  had  been 
sealed,  and  visit  him  in  his  cell  within  the  Bowyer  Tower  on 
the  night  previous  to  his  execution. 

In  a  narrow,  octangular  stone  chamber,  arched  and  groined, 
and  having  walls  of  immense  thickness,  pierced  with  deep 
embrasures,  which  were  strongly  grated  on  the  outside,  sat  the 
unfortunate  young  nobleman.  An  iron  cresset  lamp  dimly 
illumined  the  cell.  A  book  lay  upon  the  rude  oak  table, 
beside  which  the  earl  was  seated  \  but  though  his  eyes  seemed 
to  dwell  upon  the  leaves,  his  thoughts  were  far  away.  Petrarch 
for  the  first  time  failed  to  fix  his  attention.  The  young  earl 
was  prepared  to  meet  his  fate.  But  with  such  brilliant  pros- 
pects before  him,  with  such  keen  relish  of  life  and  all  its 
enjoyments  as  he  possessed,  with  so  much  unaccomplished, 
with  so  much  to  bind  him  to  the  world,  it  was  hard  to  perish 
in  the  flower  of  his  age. 

Surrey  was  then  but  seven-and-twenty,  and  though  he 
might,  if  spared,  have  reached  a  higher  point  than  he  ever 
attained,  he  was  distinguished  above  all  his  compeers  for  gal- 
lantry, courtliness,  prowess,  learning,  and  wit.  After  greatly 
distinguishing  himself  in  the  wars  with  France  in  1544,  he  was 
made  lieutenant-general  in  the  expedition  against  Boulogne. 
A  preux  chevalier  of  the  school  of  Bayard,  he  was  no  unworthy 
disciple  of  Petrarch.  His  graces  of  person  were  equal  to  his 
graces  of  mind,  and  a  statelier  figure  and  a  nobler  or  more 
intellectual  countenance  than  Surrey's  could  nowhere  be  found. 

On  his  arraignment  at  Guildhall  he  had  appeared  in  a 
doublet  of  black  tylsent,  welted  with  cloth  of  silver,  black 
silk  hose,  and  a  black  velvet  cassock,  lined  with  crimson  silk 
and  furred  with  sable ;  and  he  wore  the  same  garments  now — 
with  the  exception  of  the  cassock,  which  he  had  flung  upon  a 
stool — and  meant  to  die  in  them. 


36  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER         [Prologui 

Closing  Petrarch,  Surrey  took  up  a  copy  of  Virgil,  which 
was  lying  on  the  table,  and,  being  provided  with  writing 
materials,  he  set  resolutely  to  work  to  translate  a  passage  from 
the  ^neid.  He  was  occupied  in  this  task  when  the  with- 
drawing of  a  bolt  on  the  outside  of  the  door,  roused  him,  the 
key  grated  in  the  lock,  and  the  next  moment  a  gaoler,  carry- 
ing a  light,  entered  the  cell. 

*'  Bring  you  the  ghostly  father  I  have  asked  for  to  hear  my 
shrift,  Master  Tombs  ? ' '  the  earl  demanded. 

**The  priest  is  not  yet  arrived,  my  lord,"  Tombs  replied. 
*'The  Constable  of  the  Tower  is  without,  and  another  with 
him." 

''What  other?"  cried  Surrey,  springing  to  his  feet.  **  Is 
it  the  duke,  my  father?     Speak,  man  ! — quick  !" 

"No,  my  lord.  I  know  not  who  it  maybe,"  answered 
Tombs;  '*but  assuredly  it  is  not  his  Grace  of  Norfolk,  for 
I  left  him  not  an  hour  ago  in  the  Beauchamp  Tower.  Per- 
chance it  is  one  of  the  council." 

As  the  words  were  uttered.  Sir  John  Gage  passed  through 
the  doorway,  and  in  so  doing  had  to  stoop  his  lofty  head.  He 
was  followed  by  another  tall  personage,  wrapped  in  a  long 
black  mantle,  and  so  muffled  up  that  his  features  could  not  be 
distinguished.  Surrey,  however,  heeded  not  the  latter,  but, 
advancing  towards  the  constable,  and  warmly  grasping  his 
hand,  exclaimed,  ' '  This  is  well  and  kindly  done.  Sir  John. 
You  have  come  to  bid  me  farewell." 

'*  Would  I  were  the  bearer  of  the  king's  grace  to  you,  my 
lord  !"  rejoined  Gage,  in  tones  of  deep  emotion.  **  But  it  is 
not  so.     I  am  indeed  come  to  bid  you  a  last  adieu." 

**  Then,  as  my  friend,  worthy  Sir  John — and  such  you  have 
ever  shown  yourself,  and  never  more  than  now — you  will  be 
glad  to  find  that  I  am  indifferent  to  my  fate — nay,  not 
altogether  indifferent,  but  resigned.  I  have  philosophy 
enough  to  support  me  in  this  hour  of  trial,  and  am  content 
to  die." 


Chap.  K]  SEYMOUR'S  OFFER   TO  SURREY  37 

**  You  amaze  me  !"  exclaimed  the  constable.  **  I  did  not 
think  you  possessed  such  firmness  of  soul. ' ' 

**  Nor  I,"  added  the  muffled  individual. 

**Who  is  it  speaks?"  Surrey  demanded.  **Methinks  I 
know  the  voice.     I  feel  as  if  an  enemy  stood  before  me." 

'*  Your  instinct  has  not  deceived  you,  my  lord,"  Sir  John 
Gage  observed,  in  a  low  tone. 

The  muffled  personage  signed  to  Tombs  to  retire,  and 
as  soon  as  the  gaoler  was  gone  and  the  door  closed,  he  let  fall 
his  cloak. 

'*You  here,  Sir  Thomas  Seymour!"  the  earl  exclaimed, 
in  a  stem  voice.  **  Is  it  not  enough  that  your  practices  and 
those  of  your  brother,  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  have  accom- 
plished my  destruction,  but  you  must  needs  come  to  triumph 
over  me  ?  It  is  well  for  you  that  your  malice  failed  not  in  its 
object.  Had  I  lived,  you  and  your  brother  should  both  have 
rued  the  ill  counsels  ye  have  given  the  king. ' ' 

'*Let  not  your  anger  be  roused  against  him,  my  lord," 
remarked  the  constable,  **but  part,  if  you  can,  at  peace  with 
all  men." 

*'Fain  would  I  do  so,  Sir  John,"  cried  Surrey.  '*But 
let  him  not  trouble  me  further. ' ' 

**  You  mistake  my  errand  altogether,  my  lord,"  said  Sey- 
mour, haughtily.  '  *  It  is  not  in  my  nature  to  triumph  over  a 
fallen  foe.  All  enmity  I  have  ever  felt  towards  you  is  at  an 
end.  But  I  have  something  to  say  which  it  concerns  you  to 
hear.     Leave  us  for  a  while,  I  pray  you.  Sir  John." 

**  Nothing  hath  interest  with  me  now,"  said  Surrey ;  **  yet 
go,  my  true  friend.      But  let  me  see  you  once  again." 

**  Doubt  it  not,"  returned  the  constable.  And  he  closed 
the  door  as  he  quitted  the  cell. 

''My  lord,"  said  Seymour,  ''I  have  been  your  foe,  but, 
as  I  just  now  told  you,  my  enmity  is  past.  Nay,  if  you  will 
let  me,  I  will  prove  your  friend. ' ' 

**I  desire  to  die  in  charity  with  all  men/'  replied  Surrey, 


38  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         ^Prologue 

gravely,  **  and  I  freely  forgive  you  the  wrongs  you  have  done 
me.  But  for  friendship  between  us — never  !  The  word  ac- 
cords ill  with  the  names  of  Howard  and  Seymour. '  * 

''Yet  it  might  perhaps  be  better  for  both  if  it  existed," 
rejoined  Sir  Thomas.  ' '  Hear  me,  my  lord.  Will  you  not 
account  me  a  friend  if  I  rescue  you  from  the  doom  that  awaits 
you  to-morrow  ? ' ' 

* '  I  would  not  accept  life  at  your  hands,  or  at  those  of  any 
Seymour, ' '  returned  Surrey,  proudly.  *  *  Nor  would  I  ask 
grace  from  the  king  himself — far  less  seek  the  intercession  of 
one  of  his  minions.  Be  assured  I  will  make  no  submission  to 
him." 

*'  The  duke,  your  father,  has  not  been  so  unyielding,"  said 
Seymour.  **  He  hath  humbly  sued  for  mercy  from  the  king, 
and,  as  a  means  of  moving  his  Highness' s  compassion,  hath 
settled  his  estates  upon  Prince  Edward. ' ' 

''Whereby  he  has  robbed  you  and  your  insatiate  brother 
of  your  anticipated  prey,"  rejoined  the  earl.  "Therein  he 
did  wisely.  Would  he  had  not  abased  himself  by  unworthy 
submission !" 

"Nay,  my  lord,  his  submission  was  wise,  for  though  a 
pardon  hath  not  followed  it — as  no  doubt  his  Grace  expected 
— it  will  gain  him  time ;  and  time,  just  now,  is  safety.  The 
king  cannot  last  long.  A  week.  Doctor  Butts  declares,  may 
see  him  out.     Ten  days  is  the  utmost  he  can  live." 

' '  You  forget  the  statute  that  prohibits  the  foretelling  of 
the  king's  death,  on  penalty  of  death,"  replied  Surrey. 
"  But  no  matter.  I  am  not  likely  to  betray  you.  His 
Majesty  will  outlast  me,  at  any  rate,"  he  added,  with  a  bitter 
smile. 

"If  you  will  be  ruled  by  me,  my  lord,  you  shall  survive 
him  many  a  year.  I  cannot  offer  you  a  pardon,  but  I  can  do 
that  which  will  serve  you  as  well.  I  can  stay  your  execution. 
I  can  put  it  off  from  day  to  day,  till  what  we  look  for  shall 
happen — and  so  you  shall  escape  the  block." 


Chap.  K]  SEYMOUR'S  OFFER   TO  SURREY  39 

**But  wherefore  do  you  seek  to  save  me?"  demanded 
Surrey.  **  Till  this  moment  I  have  deemed  that  my  destruc- 
tion was  your  aim.  Why,  at  the  last  moment,  do  you  thus 
hinder  the  fulfilment  of  your  own  work  ?  ' ' 

*'  Listen  to  me,  my  lord,  and  you  shall  learn.  Dissimula- 
tion would  be  idle  now,  and  I  shall  not  attempt  it.  My 
brother  Hertford  compassed  your  father's  destruction  and 
your  own,  because  he  saw  in  you  opponents  dangerous  to 
his  schemes  of  future  greatness.  He  will  be  guardian  to 
Prince  Edward,  and  would  be  Lord  Protector  of  the  realm — 
king  in  all  but  name. ' ' 

**  I  know  how  highly  his  ambition  soars,"  exclaimed  Surrey. 
**  Heaven  shield  Prince  Edward,  and  guard  him  from  his 
guardians !  In  losing  me  and  my  father,  he  will  lose  those 
who  might  best  have  counselled  him  and  served  him.  But 
proceed.  Sir  Thomas.  You  have  spoken  plainly  enough  of 
Lord  Hertford's  designs.  What  are  your  own?  What  post 
do  you  count  on  filling  ? ' ' 

*  *  I  have  as  much  ambition  as  my  brother, ' '  replied  Sey- 
mour ;  * '  and  like  him  am  uncle  to  the  king  that  shall  be  soon. 
You  will  easily  perceive  my  drift,  my  lord,  when  I  tell  you 
that  my  brother  hates  me,  fears  me,  and  would  keep  me  down. 
He  is  to  be  everything — I  nothing." 

* '  Ha  !  is  it  so  ?  "  cried  Surrey. 

'*  I  say  he  fears  me — and  with  reason,"  pursued  Seymour. 
"  Let  him  take  heed  that  I  rob  him  not  of  the  dignity  he 
covets.  I  am  Prince  Edward's  favorite  uncle — he  loves  me 
better  than  Hertford,  and  will  be  right  glad  of  the  exchange 
of  governors." 

* 'Again  I  pray  Heaven  to  guard  the  young  prince  from  his 
guardians!"  murmured  Surrey. 

**  Hertford  hath  the  majority  of  the  council  with  him : 
Cranmer,  St.  John,  Russell,  Lisle,  Tunstal,  Sir  Anthony 
Brown,  Sir  Anthony  Denny — ^all  save  Wriothesley  and  my 
brother.  Sir  William  Herbert.     They  are  with  me.     Could  I 


40  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER         [Prologiu 

but  reckon  on  his  Grace  of  Norfolk  and  on  you,  I  should  con- 
sider the  success  of  my  plan  as  certain. ' ' 

'*  You  have  made  no  overtures  of  this  nature  to  my  father, 
sir  ?  * '   cried  Surrey,  eagerly. 

"Not  as  yet,"  Seymour  replied.  "But  I  cannot  doubt 
his  Grace's  concurrence. 

"  You  do  not  know  my  father,  or  you  would  not  dare  assert 
80  much,"  rejoined  Surrey.  **  He  would  reject  your  propo- 
sal as  scornfully  as  I  reject  it.  He  would  not  buy  his  life  on 
terms  so  infamous." 

"  I  see  no  degradation  in  the  terms,"  said  Seymour.  **  I 
offer  you  life,  all  the  honors  you  have  forfeited,  and  all  the 
estates  you  have  lost,  and  ask  only  in  return  your  staunch 
support ;  little  enough,  methinks  !  Have  you  no  love  left  for 
life,  Lord  Surrey?  Have  your  pulses  ceased  to  beat  with 
their  former  ardor  ?  Are  your  ears  deaf  to  the  trumpet-blast 
of  fame  ?  Have  your  own  chivalrous  deeds  faded  from  your 
memory  ?  Have  you  forgotten  the  day  when,  at  the  jousts 
given  by  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  at  Florence,  you  sus- 
tained the  beauty  of  the  lady  of  your  love,  the  fair  Geraldine, 
against  all  comers,  and  remained  victorious  ?  Have  you  had 
your  fill  of  knightly  worship  and  military  renown  ?  You  are 
a  widower,  and  may,  without  presumption,  aspire  to  the 
hand  of  the  Princess  Mary.  Ha  J — have  I  touched  you,  my 
lord  ?  But  I  will  go  on.  Have  courtly  revels  lost  attraction 
for  him  who  was  once  their  chief  ornament?  Have  the 
Muses  ceased  to  charm  you?  I  should  judge  not,  when  I  see 
how  you  have  been  recently  employed.  * ' 

'*  Oh  !  no,  no  !"  exclaimed  Surrey.  **  Life  has  lost  none 
of  its  attractions  in  my  sight.  Glory  and  fame  are  dear  as 
ever  to  me. '  * 

"  Then  live !  live!  and  win  yet  more  fame  and  glory," 
cried  Seymour,  with  something  of  triumph,  thinking  he  had 
vanquished  the  earl's  scruples. 

"Well  as  I  love  life,"  said  Surrey,  "  I  love  my  reputation 


Chap.  F]  SEYMOUR'S  OFFER  TO  SURREY  41 

better,  and  will  not  tarnish  it  by  any  unworthy  act.  I  re- 
ject your  offer,  Sir  Thomas. ' ' 

"Your  blood  be  upon  your  own  head,  then,"  rejoined 
Seymour,  sternly.  "  Your  scruples  are  fantastical  and  absurd. 
But  we  could  look  only  for  frenzy  in  a  poet,"  he  added,  with 
scorn. 

*' You  taunt  an  unarmed  man,  Sir  Thomas,"  cried  Surrey, 
with  flashing  eyes,  **  and  'tis  a  craven  act.  Had  I  been  free, 
you  dared  not  for  your  life  have  said  so  much  !  You  have 
come  at  this  final  hour,  like  an  evil  spirit,  to  tempt  me  to 
wrong  and  dishonor — ^but  you  have  failed.  Now  mark  my 
words,  for  I  feel  they  are  prophetic.  You  and  your  brother 
have  brought  me  to  the  scaffold — ^but  my  blood  shall  fly  to 
Heaven  for  vengeance.  Your  ambitious  schemes  shall  come 
to  naught.  You  shall  have  power  only  to  lose  it.  The  seeds 
of  dissension  and  strife  are  already  sown  between  you,  and 
shall  quickly  grow  and  ripen.  You  shall  plot  against  one 
another,  and  destroy  one  another.  His  hand  shall  sign  your 
death-warrant,  but  your  dying  curse  shall  alight  upon  his 
head,  and  the  fratricide  shall  perish  on  the  same  scaffold  as 
yourself.  Think  on  my  words,  Sir  Thomas,  when,  like  me, 
you  are  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower. ' ' 

**Tush  !  I  have  no  fear,"  replied  Seymour,  scarcely  able 
to  repress  his  uneasiness.  **  'Tis  a  pity  you  will  not  live  to 
witness  my  nephew's  coronation.  You  might  have  written 
an  ode  thereon. '  * 

'*I  will  write  your  epitaph  instead,  sir,"  rejoined  Surrey, 
"and  leave  it  with  the  headsman." 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  cell  was  opened,  and  Sir 
John  Gage  stepped  in. 

"The  ghostly  father  is  without,  my  lord,"  he  said,  ad- 
dressing Surrey.  "But  you  look  ruffled.  Nothing,  I  trust, 
has  occurred  to  chafe  you  ?  ' ' 

"Ask  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,"  the  earl  rejoined.  "  He  will 
tell  you  as  much  or  as  little  as  he  thinks  fit.     For  myself,  I 


42  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Prologue 

have  done  with  all  worldly  matters,  and  have  time  only  to 
think  of  my  sins,  and  ask  forgiveness  for  them. ' ' 

After  a  brief  pause,  he  added  in  a  voice  of  deep  emotion, 
**  One  commission  I  will  charge  you  with,  good  Sir  John, 
and  I  well  know  you  will  not  neglect  it.  Since  my  imprison- 
ment in  the  Tower,  I  have  not  seen  my  little  boy,  and  I  shall 
never  see  him  more.  Kiss  him  for  me,  and  give  him  my  last 
blessing.  Tell  him  I  died  without  reproach  and  with  unspot- 
ted honor.  Poor  orphan  child  !  Early  bereft  of  a  mother's 
tenderness,  thou  wilt  be  robbed  of  a  father's  love  by  a  yet 
more  cruel  stroke  of  fate  !  But  something  tells  me  thou  shalt 
regain  the  title  and  dignity  I  have  lost.  Fare  you  well  for 
ever,  good  Sir  John!"  he  continued,  embracing  him.  **I 
have  nothing  but  those  poor  books  to  give  you.  If  you 
care  to  have  them,  I  pray  you  keep  them  in  remembrance  of 
your  friend,  Henry  Howard. ' ' 

*'  I  shall  dearly  prize  the  gift,  my  lord,"  replied  Sir  John, 
much  moved,  and  fearful  of  unmanning  himself — **  fare- 
well !" 

Meanwhile,  Seymour  had  resumed  his  cloak.  Not  a  word 
more  passed  between  him  and  Surrey,  but  they  eyed  each 
other  sternly  as  Sir  Thomas  quitted  the  cell. 

Soon  afterwards,  the  priest  was  ushered  in  by  Tombs,  and 
remained  for  more  than  an  hour  with  the  earl. 

On  the  next  day,  the  chivalrous  Surrey  was  decapitated  on 
Tower  Hill.  His  constancy  remained  unshaken  to  the  last. 
Greeting  the  executioner  with  a  smile,  he  laid  his  graceful 
head  upon  the  block  amid  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  the 
beholders. 


Chap.  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAyE-TAKlhIG  45 


CHAPTER   VI 


HOIV  THE  KING,  FINDING  HIS  END  APPROACH,  TOOK  A 
LAST  LEAVE  OF  THE  PRINCESSES  MARY  AND  ELIZA- 
BETH, AND  OF  THE  PRINCE  EDIVARD ;  AND  OF  THE 
COUNSEL  HE  GAVE  THEM 

Surrey  was  gone,  but  his  destroyer  yet  lingered  on  earth. 
By  this  time,  however,  the  king's  malady  had  made  such 
progress,  that  Doctor  Butts  confidentially  informed  the  Earl 
of  Hertford  and  some  others  of  the  council,  that  his  Majesty 
had  little  more  than  a  week  to  live ;  but  that  possibly  his  ex- 
istence might  be  terminated  at  an  earlier  period.  Henry 
could  not  be  unconscious  of  his  danger,  though  he  spoke  not 
of  it,  and  no  one — not  even  his  physician,  or  his  confessor, 
the  Bishop  of  Rochester — dared  to  warn  him  of  his  approach- 
ing dissolution.  He  heard  mass  daily  in  his  chamber,  and 
received  other  rites,  which  led  to  the  supposition  that  he  was 
about  to  be  reconciled,  at  the  last  moment,  to  the  see  of 
Rome.  This  opinion  was  strengthened  when  Gardiner  and 
Wriothesley  were  again  sent  for,  and  restored  to  favor.  Thus 
things  continued,  until  Sir  John  Gage,  seeing  that  all  shrank 
from  the  perilous  task  of  acquainting  the  dying  monarch  with 
his  true  condition,  boldly  inquired  if  he  had  no  desire  to  see 
Prince  Edward  and  the  Princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth. 

'  *  To  take  leave  of  them  !  Is  that  what  you  mean  ? — ha  ! ' ' 
roared  Henry,  who  had  just  recovered  from  a  paroxysm  of 
anguish.      '*  Speak  out,  man  !" 

*'  It  is,"  replied  the  constable,  firmly.  **  Forgive  me,  sire, 
if  I  offend.     I  but  discharge  my  duty. ' ' 

There  was  a  terrible  silence,  during  which  no  one  could 
say  what  might  ensue.     No  explosion  of  rage,  however,  fol- 


44  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Prologue 

lowed.  On  the  contrary,  the  king  said,  in  a  milder  tone, 
"  Thou  art  a  faithful  servant,  Sir  John,  and  I  honor  thy  cour- 
age. The  interview  must  not  be  delayed.  Let  my  children 
be  brought  to  me  to-morrow. ' ' 

**I  rejoice  to  hear  your  Majesty  say  so,"  replied  Gage. 
**  I  will  myself  set  out  at  once  for  Hampton  Court,  and 
bring  his  Highness  Prince  Edward  and  the  Princess  Elizabeth 
to  the  palace. ' ' 

'^1  will  go  with  you,  Sir  John,'*  said  Sir  Thomas  Sey- 
mour. 

**And  with  your  Majesty's  permission,  I  will  repair  to 
Greenwich,  and  advise  the  Princess  Mary  of  your  commands," 
said  Sir  George  Blagge.  '*I  am  assured  she  will  hasten  to 
obey  them." 

**I  am  much  beholden  to  you,  sirs,"  replied  the  king. 
**If  Heaven  shall  grant  me  so  much  life,  I  look  to  see  all 
three  to-morrow.  Let  the  whole  of  the  council  attend  at  the 
same  time.  Give  me  a  draught  of  wine — ^and  quickly, 
knave,"  he  added,  to  a  cup-bearer  near  him.  **I  feel  ex- 
ceeding faint." 

**  Saints  grant  that  to-morrow  be  not  too  late  ! — his  looks 
alarm  me,"  observed  the  Constable  of  the  Tower,  as  he 
withdrew  with  Seymour  and  Blagge. 

Contrary  to  expectation,  Henry  was  somewhat  better  next 
day.  He  had  slept  a  little  during  the  night,  having  obtained 
some  slight  respite  from  the  excruciating  tortures  he  endured. 
Resolved  to  maintain  his  regal  state  and  dignity  to  the  last, 
he  gave  orders  that  as  much  ceremony  should  be  observed  at 
this  his  parting  interview  with  his  children  as  if  it  had  been 
a  grand  reception.  Causing  the  great  cumbrous  chair,  which 
he  now  rarely  quitted,  to  be  placed  beneath  a  cloth  of  estate 
embroidered  with  the  arms  of  England,  he  sat  in  it  propped 
up  with  velvet  pillows,  and  wrapped  in  a  long  gown  of  white 
tylsent,  flowered  with  gold,  and  lined  and  bordered  with  fur, 
and  having  wide  sleeves.     His  head  was  covered  with  the 


Chap.  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAVE-TAKING  45 

embroidered  black  silk  skull-cap,  which  he  now  customarily 
wore.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  chamber,  in  a  chair  of 
state,  but  not  under  a  canopy,  sat  Queen  Catherine,  sur- 
rounded by  Viscountess  Lisle,  Lady  Tyrwhitt,  and  other 
ladies. 

On  the  left  of  the  king  stood  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  bearing 
his  wand  of  office  as  great  chamberlain.  The  pearled  collar 
of  the  Garter  with  the  George  attached  to  it  encircled  his 
neck,  and  the  gold  band  of  the  order  was  worn  below  his 
knee.  He  was  magnificently  apparelled  in  a  doublet  of  white 
satin,  embroidered  all  over  with  pearls  of  damask  gold,  with 
sleeves  of  the  same  stuff",  formed  down  with  threads  of  Venice 
silver.  Over  this  he  wore  a  cassock  of  blue  velvet,  em- 
broidered with  gold,  and  furred.  Though  not  so  strikingly 
handsome  as  his  younger  brother,  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  the 
Earl  of  Hertford  was  yet  a  very  noble-looking  personage,  with 
a  fine  cast  of  countenance,  a  tall,  stately  figure,  and  a  com- 
manding deportment.  His  eyes  were  dark  and  penetrating, 
but  a  slight  contraction  of  the  brows  gave  a  somewhat  sinister 
eff'ect  to  his  glances.  His  forehead  was  high  and  bald,  his 
features  regular  and  well  shaped,  the  distinguishing  expression 
of  the  face  being  gravity,  tinctured  by  melancholy.  He  had 
none  of  the  boldness  of  look  and  manner  that  characterized 
his  brother,  but  more  caution,  and  perhaps  subtlety.  His 
complexion  was  pale,  and  his  beard  somewhat  thin.  Hert- 
ford's career  had  been  one  of  uninterrupted  success.  By  the 
king's  favor  he  had  risen  to  greatness.  On  Henry's  marriage 
with  his  sister,  Jane  Seymour,  he  was  created  Viscount  Beau- 
champ.  Sent  ambassador  to  Paris  in  1540,  in  the  following 
year  he  received  the  Order  of  the  Garter.  In  1542  he  was 
appointed  Lord  Great  Chamberlain  of  England  for  life.  Two 
years  later,  in  the  war  with  Scotland,  he  accompanied  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk  to  that  kingdom  with  the  title  of  Lieutenant- 
General  of  the  North ;  and  when  Henry  proceeded  to  the 
siege  of  Boulogne,  he  was  named  one  of  the  four  councillors 


46  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE  TOIVER  [Prologue 

intrusted  with  the  care  of  the  realm.  Only  a  few  months  ago 
he  had  been  made  Earl  of  Hertford.  But  high  as  he  had 
risen,  the  aspiring  noble  looked  to  rise  much  higher.  His 
dreams  of  ambition  seemed  about  to  be  fulfilled.  Supreme 
power  was  almost  within  his  grasp.  His  enemies  were  re- 
moved or  crushed.  Surrey  had  lost  his  head — a  like  doom 
awaited  Norfolk.  Soon — very  soon  must  come  the  day  when 
Henry  would  be  called  to  his  account.  Then  the  boy  Edward 
would  mount  the  throne — ^but  he,  his  uncle,  his  guardian, 
would  rule  in  his  name.  What  more  the  earl  dreamed  of 
may  appear  when  we  have  occasion  to  sound  the  inmost 
recesses  of  his  breast. 

Another  important  actor  in  this  scene,  and  who  secretly 
nourished  ambitious  designs  scarcely  less  daring  than  those  of 
Hertford,  was  John  Dudley,  Viscount  Lisle.  Son  of  that 
Edmond  Dudley,  whose  death  upon  the  scaffold  inaugurated 
Henry's  accession  to  the  throne,  this  scheming  and  far-seeing 
noble  had  early  distinguished  himself  by  his  bravery  in  the 
wars  with  France,  and  obtained  the  honor  of  knighthood, 
besides  regaining  his  forfeit  rights.  Attached  both  to  Wolsey 
and  Cromwell,  he  rose  by  their  aid,  and  being  appointed 
governor  of  Boulogne,  which  he  successfully  defended  against 
all  assaults,  he  was  elevated  to  the  dignity  of  Viscount  Lisle, 
and  made  High  Admiral  of  England.  He  was,  moreover, 
enriched  by  the  lavish  sovereign,  whose  favor  he  had  won, 
by  large  possessions  wrested  from  the  Church,  which  were 
afterwards  thought  to  bring  down  a  curse  upon  him.  Bold 
and  ambitious.  Lord  Lisle  was  a  profound  dissembler,  and 
though  even  at  this  moment  he  meditated  plans  which  were 
not  developed  until  long  afterwards,  he  allowed  no  hint  of  his 
designs  to  escape  him,  but  was  content  for  the  time  to  play  a 
subordinate  part  to  Hertford,  whom  he  hoped  in  the  end  to 
eclipse.  As  a  means  towards  that  object  he  looked  to  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour.  Lord  Lisle  was  now  in  his  forty-fifth 
year.     His  large  and  strongly -marked  features  evinced  sagac- 


Chap.  K;]  the  KING'S  LEA^E-TAKING  47 

ity,  shrewdness,  and  determination.  His  beard  was  scanty, 
and  his  short  moustache  disclosed  a  singularly  firm-set  mouth. 
His  figure  was  tall,  and  his  deportment  martial,  but  his 
manner  had  nothing  of  the  roughness  of  the  camp  about 
it.  He  could  play  equally  well  the  part  of  soldier  or  of 
courtier.  Compared  with  Hertford  he  was  soberly  attired, 
his  habiliments  being  of  dark  velvet,  destitute  of  embroidery, 
though  his  cassock  was  richly  furred.  But  he  wore  the  George 
and  collar,  and  the  lesser  ensign  of  the  Garter. 

Near  to  Lord  Lisle  stood  a  venerable  nobleman  with  a 
long  silvery  beard  descending  almost  to  his  girdle.  This  was 
Lord  Russell,  privy  seal.  The  old  peer  bore  his  years  well ; 
having  a  hale  look,  and  a  stout  frame.  Like  Hertford  and 
Lisle,  he  was  a  knight  companion  of  the  Garter,  and  decora- 
ted with  the  insignia  of  the  order.  Besides  those  already 
mentioned,  there  were  several  others  grouped  around  the 
king,  whom  it  will  not  be  needful  individually  to  describe. 
Amongst  them  was  the  Lord  St.  John,  great  master ;  Sir  An- 
thony Brown,  master  of  the  horse ;  Sir  William  Paget,  chief 
secretary ;  Sir  Anthony  Wingfield,  vice-chamberlain ;  Sir 
Thomas  Cheney,  treasurer  ;  Sir  Anthony  Denny  and  Sir  Wil- 
liam Herbert,  chief  gentlemen  of  the  privy  chamber;  Sir 
Richard  Rich,  Sir  John  Baker,  Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  Sir  Richard 
Southwell,  and  others — all  shining  in  rich  habiliments,  and 
making  a  goodly  show. 

The  Lord  Chancellor  Wriothesley  and  Gardiner  were  like- 
wise there,  but  held  themselves  apart  from  Hertford.  But 
Gardiner  was  not  the  only  ecclesiastic  present.  Others  there 
were,  besides — namely,  Tunstall,  Bishop  of  Durham,  and  the 
king's  confessor,  the  Bishop  of  Rochester.  But  there  was  yet 
another  greater  than  them  all — Thomas  Cranmer,  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury. 

Clothed  in  his  full  ecclesiastical  vestments  of  stole,  chi- 
mere,  and  rochet,  the  primate  stood  on  the  right  of  the 
king.     His  manner  was  grave  and  dignified ;  his  looks  stem 


48  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  iPrologw 

and  full  of  thought,  and  a  long  grey  beard  added  to  the  rev- 
erend expression  of  his  countenance.  Cranmer's  features 
were  hard,  but  yet  not  wholly  destitute  of  kindliness.  He 
seemed  profoundly  impressed — ^almost  weighed  down  by  the 
gravity  of  the  occasion. 

Indeed,  notwithstanding  the  splendor  that  marked  it,  the 
assemblage  had  a  mournful  and  solemn  character.  Not  a  word 
was  spoken  save  in  a  whisper ;  each  countenance  wore  a  sad 
and  sombre  expression.  All  felt,  though  none  cared  to  ac- 
knowledge it,  that,  in  all  likelihood,  it  was  the  last  occasion 
on  which  they  should  be  thus  brought  together  during  the 
king's  life.  Few  among  them  would  have  retarded  Henry's 
departure  to  his  last  home,  had  it  been  in  their  power  to  do 
so ;  some,  indeed,  would  willingly  have  accelerated  the  event ; 
and  yet,  to  judge  by  their  faces,  all  were  full  of  sorrow,  as  if 
about  to  sustain  a  deep  and  irreparable  loss. 

For  a  few  minutes  it  seemed  as  if  the  king  himself  were 
overpowered  by  this  general  semblance  of  grief  At  length 
he  roused  himself,  glanced  with  moistened  eyes  around  the 
assemblage,  and  pressed  Cranmer's  hand  kindly.  He  next 
called  for  a  cup  of  wine,  and,  fortified  by  the  draught,  seemed 
to  shake  off  his  weakness.  *'  Let  the  princesses  come  in,"  he 
said  to  Hertford ;   "I  am  ready  to  receive  them." 

Making  a  profound  obeisance,  the  earl  moved  towards  the 
bottom  of  the  chamber,  and  the  arras  screening  a  door  in  this 
quarter  being  drawn  aside  at  his  approach  by  the  gentlemen 
ushers  in  attendance,  he  disappeared,  but  returned  the  next 
moment  leading  the  Princess  Mary  by  the  hand,  while  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  was  conducted  into  the  chamber  in  like 
manner  by  Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  The  two  princesses  were 
followed  at  a  respectful  distance  by  the  Countess  of  Hertford 
and  Lady  Herbert. 

Mary  looked  very  grave,  and  seemed  to  have  some  difficulty 
in  controlling  her  emotion,  as  her  quivering  lip  betokened. 
Elizabeth  had  evidently  been  weeping,  for  tears  were  still  in 


Chap,  yn  THE  KING'S  LEAyE-TAKIhlG  49 

her  eyes.  Both  were  richly  attired ;  but  the  elder  sister  had 
more  of  ornament  about  her  dress — ^perhaps,  because  she 
needed  it  most — than  the  other.  Mary's  head -gear,  of  the 
angular  form  then  in  vogue,  was  of  rich  goldsmith's  work, 
bordered  with  jewels,  and  was  completed  by  a  long  couvre- 
chef  of  satin  worked  with  gold.  Her  stomacher  was  fastened 
by  two  brooches  of  agates  set  with  emeralds,  from  the  lower 
of  which  a  large  orient  pearl  depended.  Her  slender  waist 
was  encircled  by  a  girdle  of  goldsmith's  work,  with  roses  of 
rubies,  having  friar's  knots,  and  hanging  down  in  front.  Her 
dress  was  of  gold  bawdkin,  and  fitting  tight  to  the  body,  be- 
trayed her  extreme  thinness,  and  gave  her  a  very  rigid  look. 
Her  dark  auburn  locks — for  we  care  not  to  call  them  red — 
were  gathered  becomingly  enough  beneath  her  head-gear. 
Mary  had  few  charms  of  person.  She  was  thin  to  meagre- 
ness,  and  her  features  possessed  little  beauty  ;  but  they  were 
intelligent  in  expression.  To  compensate,  however,  for  these 
defects,  she  had  great  dignity  of  manner,  and  much  grace ; 
and  there  were  some — and  not  a  few — ^who,  dazzled  by  her 
high  rank,  held  her  very  blemishes  to  be  beauties. 

Mary  was  more  than  double  the  age  of  her  sister,  being 
thirty-two,  while  Elizabeth  was  only  just  thirteen.  The 
younger  princess,  however,  was  a  very  well-grown  girl,  quite 
as  tall  as  her  sister,  and  infinitely  more  attractive  in  personal 
appearance.  Elizabeth's  charms  indeed  were  almost  pre- 
cocious. Few  who  beheld  her  would  have  deemed  her  so 
young  as  she  was  in  reality,  but  would  have  given  her  a  year 
or  two  in  advance.  She  had  a  finely-formed  figure,  already 
well  developed,  a  complexion  of  dazzling  whiteness,  bright 
golden  locks  of  great  abundance,  charming  features,  eyes  bhie 
and  tender,  and  teeth  like  pearls.  Her  hands  were  of  re- 
markable beauty,  with  taper  fingers  and  rosy  nails.  Her  pro- 
fuse locks  were  confined  by  a  band  of  gold  and  a  net  of  gold 
wire,  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the  bright  tresses  it  re- 
strained ;  a  long  white  satin  couvre-chef  fell  behind  her  neck, 
4 


5©  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER         [Prologue 

and  a  dress  of  black  taffeta  displayed  her  figure  to  advan- 
tage, and  at  the  same  time  set  off  the  lovely  whiteness  of 
her  skin. 

As  Mary  approached  the  king,  Cranmer  slowly  advanced 
to  meet  her,  thus  addressing  her,  in  a  voice  of  much  solem- 
nity :  '*  Right  high,  right  noble,  and  right  excellent  princess, 
the  king,  your  august  father,  feeling  that  it  may  please 
Almighty  God  to  call  him  hence  suddenly,  hath  sent  for 
you,  and  the  right  noble  princess  your  sister,  to  give  you 
wholesome  counsel,  to  bestow  his  blessing  on  you,  and  to  take, 
it  maybe" — here  the  archbishop's  voice  slightly  faltered — 
'*  though  Heaven  grant  it  maybe  otherwise  ! — a  last  leave  of 
you  both.  Nothing  doubting  that  you  will  keep  his  counsels 
ever  in  your  heart,  and  that  you  will  have  the  glorious  ex- 
ample set  by  his  majesty  constantly  before  you,  I  pray  your 
highnesses  to  kneel  down  before  your  royal  father,  and  in  that 
reverent  posture  give  heed  to  what  he  shall  say  to  you. ' ' 

''I  need  no  schooling  in  my  duty  from  you,  my  Lord  of 
Canterbury,"  replied  Mary,  who  hated  Cranmer.  *'Not  a 
word  shall  fall  from  my  royal  father's  lips  but  it  will  dwell 
forever  in  my  breast. ' ' 

Elizabeth  attempted  to  speak,  but  words  failed  her,  and  she 
burst  into  tears. 

Meanwhile,  cushions  of  crimson  velvet  were  placed  near 
the  chair  occupied  by  the  ailing  monarch,  and  on  these  both 
princesses  knelt  down.  Aided  by  Sir  John  Gage  and  Lord 
Lisle,  Henry  slightly  raised  himself,  and  this  office  performed, 
the  assistants  immediately  retired. 

Extending  his  arms  over  his  daughters,  the  king  said  some- 
what feebly,  but  with  great  earnestness,  '^  My  blessing  on  ye 
both  !  and  may  it  rest  ever  with  ye — ever !  Only  to  the 
great  Ruler  of  events  is  known  the  destiny  in  store  for  you. 
Both  of  ye  may  be  queens — and  should  it  so  chance,  ye  will 
learn  what  cares  the  crown  brings  with  it.  But  think  only — 
as  I  have  ever  done — of  the  welfare  and  glory  of  your  king' 


Chap.  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAyE-TAKWG  51 

dom,  and  of  your  own  honor,  and  ye  shall  reign  wisely  and 
well." 

**  Should  it  ever  be  my  lot  to  reign,  sire,  I  will  essay  to  fol- 
low your  glorious  example, ' '  said  Mary. 

' '  I  shall  never  be  queen, ' '  sobbed  Elizabeth,  ' '  and  therefore 
I  need  make  no  promise. '  * 

"How  know  you  that,  girl?"  cried  the  king,  angrily. 
*^  You  are  as  likely  to  be  queen  as  Mary.  I  want  no  promises. 
I  have  pointed  out  the  way  you  ought  to  pursue,  and  if  you 
be  not  a  degenerate  daughter,  you  will  follow  it. '  * 

''I  despair  of  emulating  your  greatness,  O  my  father!" 
cried  Elizabeth.  "But  if  it  shall  please  Providence  to  call 
upon  me  to  rule,  I  will  endeavor  to  rule  well. ' ' 

"Enough!"  replied  Henry,  appeased.  "And  now  arise, 
both  of  ye,  that  I  may  look  at  you  more  nearly,  for  my  sight 
waxes  somewhat  dim. ' ' 

Taking  his  elder  daughter's  hand  as  she  arose,  Henry 
looked  at  her  fixedly  for  a  few  minutes,  during  which  he 
murmured,  "Forgive  me,  Katherine,  my  first  spouse,  if  I 
have  ever  dealt  harshly  with  this  thy  daughter  ! ' '  adding 
aloud,  after  a  pause,  "It  is  right  you  should  both  know  it — 
and  that  all  should  know  it — that  by  my  will  I  have  confirmed 
the  succession  of  both  of  ye  to  the  crown.  Neither  of  ye 
may  wed,  save  with  the  consent  and  approval  of  the  council 
— such  consent  to  be  given  under  hand  and  seal.  But  on 
your  marriage,  each  of  ye  shall  have  such  sums  of  money  as  I 
have  appointed,  together  with  such  jewels,  plate,  and  house- 
hold stuffs,  as  shall  seem  meet  to  those  intrusted  with  the  per- 
formance of  my  testaments.  I  have  left  ye  both  alike — ^alike 
in  yearly  income,  while  ye  continue  single — ^alike  on  mar- 
riage. Now,  mark  me,  Mary,"  he  continued,  sternly  and 
authoritatively,  "if  you  perform  not  the  conditions  required 
of  you  by  my  will,  the  crown  will  devolve  on  Elizabeth.  And 
if  Elizabeth  shall  neglect  them,"  he  added,  glancing  at  his 
younger  child,  "  the  crown  will  go  to  our  well -beloved  niece. 


52  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Prologw 

Frances  Brandon,  daughter  of  our  sister  Mary  and  the  Duke 
of  Suffolk.  Now  both  of  you  know  our  will  and  pleasure. 
Kiss  me,  Mary,  and  let  thy  sister  come  nigh  me. ' ' 

Taking  Elizabeth's  hand,  who  stood  weeping  before  him,  and 
earnestly  perusing  her  features,  the  king  seemed  struggling 
with  recollections  that  would  force  themselves  upon  him,  for 
he  muttered  to  himself,  "Ay,  'tis  the  very  face,  the  eye,  the 
lip  ! — thus  looked  she  when  I  chided  her.  In  all  things  she 
is  like  her  mother,  save  in  the  color  of  her  hair.  Anne,  sweet 
Anne,  how  well  do  I  recall  thee  with  all  thy  winning  ways  ! 

This  fair  child's  neck  is  like  to  thine  ;  and  yet Would  I 

could  bring  thee  back  again  !" 

As  these  words  reached  her  ear,  Elizabeth's  tears  fell  yet 
more  freely,  and  she  trembled  as  a  deep  groan  burst  from  the 
king.  But  Henry  quickly  shook  off  these  passing  feelings  of 
remorse,  and  said  kindly  but  firmly,  **Weep  not,  sweet  child, 
thou  wilt  spoil  thy  pretty  eyes  else.  Keep  thy  sorrow  till  thou 
hast  lost  me.  Be  discreet,  girl.  Thou  art  fair,  and  wilt  be 
fairer.  Grow  in  grace  as  thou  growest  in  beauty.  So  shalt 
thou  be  truly  loved  and  honored.  Beauty  without  discretion 
bringeth  death — thy  mother  found  it  so.  Kiss  me,  and  lay 
my  counsel  well  to  heart." 

Elizabeth,  almost  shudderii\gly,  complied,  and  the  king, 
feeling  exhausted  by  the  effort  he  had  made,  called  for  another 
cup  of  wine,  and  after  draining  the  goblet  deeply,  asked  for 
Prince  Edward. 

Meanwhile,  the  princesses  had  retired,  and  stationed  them- 
selves on  the  other  side  of  the  chamber,  near  the  queen. 

On  learning  his  Majesty's  pleasure,  the  Earl  of  Hertford 
proceeded  to  the  door  from  which  the  princesses  had  issued, 
and  presently  ushered  in  the  youthful  prince,  conducting  him 
ceremoniously  towards  the  king.  The  prince  was  followed  by 
Sir  George  Blagge  and  two  other  gentlemen. 

All  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Edward  on  his  entrance,  and  every 
head  was  inclined  as  if  in  homage  to  the  future  sovereign. 


Chap,  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAVE-TAKING  53 

He  gracefully  axiknowledged  the  reverence  shown  him,  which 
no  doubt  would  have  been  even  greater  but  from  the  fear  of 
offending  the  jealous  king.  The  young  prince,  it  has  already 
been  mentioned,  had  but  just  entered  upon  his  tenth  year,  but 
he  seemed  to  possess  a  degree  of  intelligence  far  beyond  his 
age,  and  had  indeed  been  most  carefully  instructed  by  some 
of  the  most  learned  men  of  the  day.  He  spoke  French  and 
[talian,  and  had  written  letters  in  Latin  to  his  father,  his 
sisters,  and  the  queen.  There  was  a  great  fragility  of  look  about 
him,  and  he  seemed  to  have  shot  up  quickly,  like  a  forced 
plant.  Though  tall  for  his  age,  his  limbs  were  very  slight, 
and  his  complexion  was  of  feminine  delicacy.  In  appearance 
he  was  more  of  a  Seymour  than  a  Tudor.  His  face  was  a  per- 
fect oval,  with  some  traces  of  his  stern  father  about  it,  but  his 
lineaments  generally  resembled  those  of  his  beautiful  mother. 
His  expression  was  gentle,  but  thoughtful — more  thoughtful 
than  befitted  a  child.  His  eyes  were  of  a  dark  brown,  and 
soft ;  his  hair  was  light  in  hue,  with  a  tinge  of  gold  in  it, 
worn  short,  and  cut  close  round  the  forehead.  He  was  attired 
like  the  son  of  a  splendid  monarch,  and  the  heir  to  a  powerful 
throne.  His  little  cassock  was  of  murrey-colored  velvet,  em- 
broidered all  over  with  damask,  gold  and  pearls,  and  having 
buttons  and  loops  of  gold ;  his  doublet  and  hose  were  of  dark- 
red  satin,  woven  with  threads  of  gold,  and  his  velvet  buskins 
were  decorated  with  gold  aglets.  He  was  armed  with  a  short 
rapier  and  a  poniard  in  a  richly  ornamented  sheath,  and  a 
velvet  pouch  was  suspended  from  his  girdle.  His  flat  velvet 
cap,  which  was  removed  on  entering  his  royal  father's  presence, 
was  adorned  with  rubies  and  emeralds,  and  had  a  brooch  set 
with  fair  table  diamonds  on  the  right  side,  over  which  drooped 
a  blood-red  feather. 

Again  Cranmer  advanced,  and  addressed  the  prince  in 
terms  nearly  similar  to  those  he  had  employed  towards  his 
sisters,  but  there  was,  perhaps,  more  of  deference  in  his 
manner.     Edward  gazed  at  him  with  his  clear  eyes,  steadily 


54  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Prologue 

at  first,  but,  as  the  archbishop  proceeded,  the  young  prince's 
composure  quite  forsook  him.  Natural  feelings  asserted  their 
sway  over  his  childish  breast,  and  disregarding  etiquette,  he 
rushed  towards  the  king,  and  flinging  his  little  arms  round 
his  neck,  sobbed  out,  *'  My  father  ! — my  dear  father  !" 

So  unexpected,  though  so  natural  was  this  occurrence,  that, 
cold  and  callous  as  were  most  of  the  assemblage,  few  of  them 
refused  it  the  tribute  of  sympathy.  Some  were  even  moved  to 
tears.  Fearing  the  effect  of  any  sudden  shock  upon  the  king, 
Doctor  Butts  stepped  towards  him.  But,  though  Henry  was 
sensibly  touched  by  this  display  of  his  son's  affection,  his 
nerves  were  strong  enough  to  bear  it.  Kissing  the  boy  on 
the  brow,  he  gently  disengaged  himself  from  his  embrace, 
addressing  a  few  soothing  words  to  him  in  a  very  kindly  tone, 
while  Edward  still  continued  to  weep. 

Thinking  the  king  might  be  troubled  if  the  scene  endured 
too  long,  the  Earl  of  Hertford  moved  towards  his  nephew, 
but  Henry  checked  him,  by  calling  out,  *'  Let  him  be  ! — let 
him  be!" 

But  the  action  called  Edward  to  himself.  Controlling  his 
grief,  he  knelt  on  the  cushion  before  the  king,  and  regarding 
him  with  eyes  that  were  still  filled  with  tears,  he  said,  *'  For- 
give me,  sire  !     It  is  thus  I  ought  to  ask  your  blessing. ' ' 

*'  Thou  hast  it,  my  dear  child,"  replied  the  king,  solemnly, 
yet  tenderly.  "  Heaven  bless  thee,  boy — my  kingdom's  hope 
and  my  own.  May  those  I  have  appointed  to  watch  over 
thee  fulfil  their  trust. ' ' 

''Doubt  it  not,  my  liege,"  said  Hertford,  as  the  king 
paused  for  a  moment. 

"  Mark  me,  Edward  !"  pursued  Henry,  summoning  up  all 
his  firmness.  *'  Eight  years  must  elapse  ere  thou  canst  exer- 
cise the  full  authority  of  the  crown.  I  have  so  willed  it. 
Thou  wilt  be  king  soon  enough.  Meantime,  prepare  thyself 
for  the  high  and  important  duties  thou  wilt  have  to  discharge. 
I  doubt  not  thou  wilt  have  the  notable  virtues  and  princely 


Chap.  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAVE-TAKING        ^  55 

qualities  which  should  distinguish  a  sovereign.  I  know 
thee  to  be  godly-minded,  and  I  thank  Heaven  it  is  so ;  pray- 
ing that  thy  heart  may  be  illumined  to  all  holy  truths.  I 
have  provided  thee  with  religious  counsellors,  to  whom  my 
desires  are  known,  and  in  the  soundness  of  whose  judgment 
and  principles  I  can  rely.  .  Can  I  not  confide  the  prince's 
religious  culture  to  you,  my  Lord  of  Canterbury?  "  (to  Cran- 
mer)  ;   *' and  to  you,  my  Lord  of  Durham? "  (to  Tunstal.) 

''And  to  me  likewise,  I  would  fain  hope,  my  gracious 
liege  ? ' '   observed  Gardiner. 

''No,  not  to  thee,  my  Lord  of  Winchester,"  rejoined 
Henry.  "Thou  art  a  tool  of  the  Pope.  Listen  to  me, 
Edward.  Thou  wilt  be  placed  under  the  guidance  of  the 
virtuous  Cranmer.  Give  heed  to  his  precepts.  But  on 
points  of  faith,  when  thou  comest  to  understand  them,  be 
biased  by  no  perverse  doctrines.  There  is,  unhappily,  much 
discord  and  variance  in  the  Church.  The  clergy  preach  one 
against  another,  teach  one  contrary  to  the  other,  inveigh  one 
against  another,  without  charity  or  discretion,  and  few  or 
none  of  them  preach  truly  and  sincerely  the  word  of  God 
according  as  they  ought  to  do.  Unto  thee  it  will  be  com- 
mitted to  correct  these  offences,  and  extinguish  these  dissen- 
sions. Thou  wilt  enjoy  the  same  supreme  spiritual  authority 
as  myself.  Thou  wilt  be  Heaven's  vicar  and  high  minister. 
Be  not  an  unprofitable  servant.  Tread  in  thy  father's  foot- 
steps— so  shalt  thou  not  stray  from  the  path. ' ' 

"I  will  do  all  that  in  me  lies  to  act  as  you  enjoin  me,  sire,'* 
replied  Edward,  meekly.  *  'And  I  trust  that  with  the  aid  of 
his  good  Grace  of  Canterbury,  I  may  succeed.  I  thank  you 
heartily  for  placing  me  in  his  Grace's  hands." 

' '  The  boy  hath  been  schooled  in  this, ' '  remarked  Wriothes- 
ley,  in  a  low,  contemptuous  tone,  to  Gardiner. 

"  No  doubt  on't  j  and  he  knows  his  lesson  well,"  rejoined 
the  bishop.      "  But  we  will  teach  him  better  ere  long." 

"Thus  much  for  thy  religious  culture,  my  son,"  pursued 


56  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  ^Prologue 

Henry.  ''Though  I  would  have  thee  pious  and  learned, 
I  would  not  have  thee  hurt  thy  health  by  overstudy.  To  be 
firm  of  mind  thou  must  be  firm  of  body :  to  uphold  the  kingly 
dignity,  as  thy  father  hath  upheld  it,  thou  must  be  robust  and 
full  of  vigor.  I  would  have  thee  skilled  in  all  manly  exercises 
and  accomplishments.  Strengthen  thy  arm  betimes,  so  that 
it  can  bear  a  lance,  and  thy  limbs  so  that  they  can  sustain 
harness  of  war,  and  brook  fatigue. '  * 

*'  Nay,  father,"  cried  Edward,  brightening  up  and  spring- 
ing to  his  feet,  *'I  shall  soon  be  strong  enough  to  bear  a 
lance  and  ride  in  the  tilt-yard ;  my  uncle.  Sir  Thomas  Sey- 
mour, tells  me  so.  I  often  fence  with  him,  and  he  tells  me 
I  am  an  apt  scholar.  I  would  your  majesty  could  see  us  at 
practice. ' ' 

'*  No  man  is  better  able  to  teach  thee  all  thou  shouldst  learn 
of  martial  exercises  than  thine  uncle  Seymour, ' '  replied  the 
king,  patting  his  son's  head  approvingly.  '*Sir  Thomas,'* 
he  added  to  Seymour,  who  stepped  forward  promptly  at  the 
summons,  *'  I  confide  this  part  of  my  son's  education  to  thee. 
While  others  make  him  a  scholar  and  a  theologian,  be  it  thine 
to  teach  him  princely  manners  and  accomplishments. ' ' 

*'He  shall  lack  nothing  that  I  am  able  to  teach,  rely  on 
it,"  replied  Seymour,  bowing  profoundly. 

'  *  Give  thy  uncle  thine  hand,  Edward, ' '  said  the  king. 

"Ay  will  I,  and  that  right  willingly,"  replied  the  prince, 
grasping  the  hand  which  Seymour  proffered  him.  ''  I  love 
my  uncle  Sir  Thomas  best  of  any — your  majesty  excepted." 

*'  Ha  !  is  it  so  ?  "  mentally  ejaculated  Hertford.  *'  Have 
I  no  place  in  thy  regard,  my  gentle  nephew  ?  "  he  added 
aloud  to  the  prince. 

'*  Certes,  my  dear  lord ;  I  were  an  ingrate  else,"  replied 
Edward.  ''But  my  uncle  Sir  Thomas  is  oftener  with  me 
than  you  are." 

''I  thought  as  much,"  muttered  Hertford.  "This  must 
be  stopped. ' ' 


iKhmaxh  bl 


A/fer   the  paintmg  by  Holbein. 


Chap.  K/]  THE  KING'S  LEAVE-TAKING  57 

**  Thou  hast  my  son's  hand  within  thine  own,  Sir  Thomas  ?** 
demanded  Henry. 

'*Ay,  my  liege,"  replied  Seymour. 

*'  Be  it  a  pledge  that  thou  wilt  be  ever  true  to  him,*'  pur- 
sued the  king. 

**I  hereby  vow  fidelity  to  him,"  said  Seymour,  bending 
the  knee,  and  kissing  his  nephew's  hand. 

**  You  are  the  best  lance,  the  best  swordsman,  and  the  best 
horseman  at  our  court,  Sir  Thomas,"  continued  the  king  to 
Seymour.  '*  See  that  my  son  equals  you  in  all  these  exer- 
cises. ' ' 

**  He  shall  excel  me  in  them  all,"  replied  the  other. 

''A  word  in  your  ear,  Sir  Thomas,"  said  the  king.  *'  He 
is  but  a  tender  stripling,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone.  **  Press 
him  not  beyond  his  strength.  For  your  sister's  sake,  be  a 
kind  uncle  to  him. ' ' 

*'  For  her  sake — for  yours,  my  liege — I  will  be  to  him  all 
you  could  desire, ' '  rejoined  Seymour,  earnestly. 

As  Sir  Thomas  retired,  Henry  said  to  his  son,  **  Go  to  the 
queen,  Edward,  and  conduct  her  to  me. ' ' 

Upon  this,  the  prince  immediately  tripped  towards  Cath- 
erine, who  caught  him  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  him  ten- 
derly ;  after  whkh  she  arose  and  accompanied  him  to  the 
king. 

On  drawing  near  her  royal  husband,  the  queen  would  have 
knelt  down,  but  Henry  would  not  permit  her.  Taking  her 
hand  kindly,  he  said,  with  the  same  earnestness  with  which 
he  had  spoken  throughout,  ''Thou  hast  ever  been  an  obe- 
dient wife,  Kate,  and  in  all  things  comformable  to  my  will. 
Thou  wilt  not,  therefore,  I  am  well  assured,  disobey  my  last 
injunctions.  This  pretty  boy  has  never  known  a  mother's 
love.  Be  thou  a  mother  to  him.  Thou  hast  no  child  to 
wean  thy  tenderness  from  him — give  it  him  all." 

*'  He  has  it  already,  sire,"  replied  the  queen.  "  Dost  thou 
not  love  me,  Edward  ? ' ' 


58  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Prologue 

'*Ay,  madam,  as  a  mother,"  replied  the  prince,  affection- 
ately. 

'*That  is  well,"  said  Henry;  **  but  you  must  not  humor 
his  every  whim,  Kate.     I  hear  he  is  somewhat  wilful. ' ' 

**  Those  who  have  said  so  to  your  majesty,  wrong  him," 
rejoined  the  queen.  **  Edward  is  ever  good  and  gentle — yea, 
most  tractable. '  * 

*'  If  he  continue  so,  it  shall  be  well,"  said  Henry.  "  Thou 
lov'st  thy  sisters,  Edward?     Speak  the  truth,  boy  !" 

'*I  ever  do  speak  truth,  sire,"  replied  the  prince.  **I 
love  them  dearly.  But  I  love  Elizabeth  best,"  he  added, 
in  a  lower  tone,  to  the  king,  **  for  Mary  is  sometimes  sharp 
and  peevish  with  me,  but  Elizabeth  is  ever  merry  and  ready 
for  play. '  * 

' '  Elizabeth  is  nearer  thine  own  age,  boy.  Thou  wilt  find 
out  Mary's  merits  as  thou  growest  older,"  replied  the  king. 
*'  I  would  have  ye  all  dwell  together  in  unity — ha  !" 

**What  ails  your  Majesty?"  cried . Catherine,  alarmed  by 
the  sudden  alteration  of  his  countenance. 

*'  A  spasm — it  is  gone,"  rejoined  Henry,  with  a  groan. 

*' Father — dear  father!  you  look  ill,"  cried  Edward^  ter- 
rified. 

''Take  him  away,"  said  the  king,  faintly,  sinking  back- 
wards as  he  spoke.  . 

All  was  now  confusion  and  alarm,  apprehension  being  gen- 
erally entertained  that  the  king  was  dying.  Advancing  quickly 
towards  his  royal  patient.  Doctor  Butts  placed  his  hand  upon 
his  pulse,  and  watched  his  countenance  with  great  anxiety. 

"Is  he  gone,  think  you?  "  asked  Gardiner,  anxiously,  and 
in  a  low  tone,  of  Wriothesley. 

''It  would  seem  so  from  Butts's  looks,"  replied  the  other. 
"If  he  be,  Norfolk's  life  is  saved,  for  they  will  not  dare 
execute  him." 

' '  Heaven  grant  it ! "  ejaculated  Gardiner.  ' '  Mark  you  not 
Hertford's  trouble?     Something  has  been  left  undone." 


Chap,  yi'\  THE  K1NG*S  LEAyE-TAKING  59 

"All  may  have  been  left  undone,**  rejoined  Wriothesley. 
"  I  do  not  think  the  will  is  signed." 

"That  were  indeed  a  gain  for  us,**  said  Gardiner.  "  But 
I  dare  scarcely  hope  it. '  * 

"  How  fares  it  with  his  Highness?"  inquired  the  Earl  of 
Hertford,  whose  countenance  displayed  much  anxiety,  as  the 
physician  moved  away  his  hand. 

"The  king  will  live,"  replied  Butts.  "Let  the  chamber 
be  instantly  cleared.** 

"Ye  hear,  my  lords?*'  said  Hertford,  evidently  much  re- 
lieved. "  Doctor  Butts  declares  that  his  Majesty  is  in  no  im- 
mediate danger,  but  he  prays  ye  all  to  depart  at  once.** 

Thus  exhorted,  the  assemblage  began  instantly  to  disperse. 

Prince  Edward,  however,  still  lingered,  though  the  queen, 
who  was  moving  away,  beckoned  him  to  come  with  her. 

"May  I  not  stay  with  the  king,  my  father?**  said  the 
prince,  plucking  Doctor  Butts*  s  robe. 

"It  grieves  me  to  refuse  your  Highness,  but  it  cannot  be,*' 
replied  the  physician. 

"Come  with  me,  Edward,**  said  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
"  The  queen  waits  for  you.  This  is  a  scene  unmeet  for  eyes 
like  yours.'* 

The  young  prince  took  his  uncle*  s  hand,  and  allowed  him- 
self to  be  led  out  of  the  room,  looking  wistfully  at  his  father 
as  he  retired.     He  never  beheld  him  more. 

"  You  are  sure  he  will  revive  ?  **  inquired  the  Earl  of  Hert- 
ford of  Doctor  Butts,  as  they  were  left  alone  with  the  still  in- 
animate nionarch. 

"  I  am  certain  of  it,**  replied  the  physician.  "  But  I  will 
not  answer  that  he  may  live  many  hours.  You  look  uneasy, 
my  lord.     What  remains  to  be  done  ? '* 

"Everything/*  replied  Hertford.  "  Norfolk  still  lives — 
and  the  king  hath  not  signed  his  wilL  *  * 

"  He  spoke  as  if  he  had,"  remarked  Butts. 

"All  think  so,  and  I  would  not  have  them  undeceived,*' 


6o  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         [Prologiu 

replied  Hertford.  "The  will  has  been  well  considered  and 
debated,  as  you  know,  and  is  fully  prepared,  but  he  ever  puts 
off  the  signing  of  it.  All  my  persuasions  have  failed  with 
him.'' 

'*  Obstinate  as  he  is,  he  shall  sign  it,"  replied  the  physi- 
cian. **But  hush!"  he  added,  with  a  gesture  of  silence; 
"he  stirs!  Retire,  my  lord.  And  send  Ferrys,  the  king's 
chirurgeon,  to  me  with  all  despatch." 


CHAPTER  VII 


OF  THE  AWFUL  SUMMONS  RECEiyED  BY  THE  KING 

Under  the  superintendence  of  Doctor  Butts  and  of  the 
chirurgeon  Ferrys,  and  by  the  help  of  an  engine  employed 
for  the  purpose,  Henry,  who  had  only  partially  regained  his 
consciousness,  was  lifted  from  his  chair,  and  placed  in  a  couch 
in  the  royal  sleeping-chamber.  The  couch  wherein  he  was 
thus  deposited  was  of  unusual  size,  and  made  of  oak,  richly 
carved,  and  black  and  lustrous  as  ebony.  The  lofty  canopy 
was  crowned  with  blood-red  plumes,  and  supported  by  twisted 
pillars.  The  curtains  were  of  cloth  of  gold  of  the  thickest 
texture,  embroidered  with  the  Holy  Cross,  the  cross  of  Saint 
George,  the  Rose,  the  Portcullis,  and  the  Lion  rampant, 
mingled  with  Fleurs-de-lys.  The  head  of  the  bed  was  sculp- 
tured in  bold  relief  with  the  arms  of  England.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  magnificence  of  its  curtains,  the  general  appearance 
of  this  huge  bed  was  sombre  in  the  extreme,  and  it  looked  a 
fitting  receptacle  for  an  expiring  monarch.  The  walls  of  the 
chamber  were  hung  with  fine  tapestry  from  the  woofs  of  Tour- 
nay,  representing  the  principal  actions  of  Solomon  the  Wise, 
and  in  the  upper  border  scrolls  were  painted  in  black  letter 


Chap,  K//]  THE  KING'S  AlVFUL  SUMMONS  6x 

sundry  texts  of  Scripture,  applicable  to  the  destination  of  the 
room. 

A  dreadful  night  ensued,  long  remembered  by  those  who 
watched  by  Henry's  troubled  couch,  or  were  near  enough  to 
hear  his  appalling  groans  and  roars  of  agony.  No  one  who 
then  listened  to  his  terrific  outcries,  or  witnessed  his  desperate 
struggles  for  breath,  but  felt  that  the  despot's  numerous  vic- 
tims were  amply  avenged.  For  every  life  taken  by  him  it 
seemed  he  must  endure  a  pang :  and  yet,  though  ever  dying, 
he  could  not  die.  Throughout  the  long,  long  night,  in  that 
vast,  dimly-lighted  chamber,  rendered  gloomier  by  the  dusky 
furniture  and  the  grim  arras  on  the  walls,  might  be  seen  dark 
figures,  as  if  detached  from  the  tapestry,  gliding  with  ghostly 
footsteps  towards  the  king's  couch,  questioning  the  physician 
and  chirurgeon  in  dumb  show,  and  then  swiftly  but  silently 
retreating  if  a  groan  broke  from  the  royal  sufferer.  One  tall 
personage,  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the  hangings  near 
which  he  stood,  remained  stationary  at  the  back  of  the  room 
throughout  the  whole  night,  as  if  anxiously  awaiting  the  issue 
of  this  fearful  conflict  with  death.  Ever  and  anon.  Doctor 
Butts  moved  noiselessly  towards  this  sombre  and  mysterious- 
looking  personage,  and  spoke  with  him  under  his  breath. 
Their  muttered  converse  had  evident  reference  to  the  king, 
and  to  something  required  of  him  by  the  untiring  watcher, 
whose  gestures  proclaimed  the  utmost  anxiety ;  but,  however 
important  the  matter  might  be.  Butts  clearly  deemed  it  im- 
practicable, for  he  shook  his  head,  and  returned  alone  to  the 
sick  monarch's  couch.  Worn  out  by  anguish,  Henry  dropped 
asleep  towards  morning,  and  this  favorable  circumstance  being 
communicated  to  the  watcher,  he  disappeared,  having  previ- 
ously received  an  assurance  from  Doctor  Butts  that  he  should 
be  instantly  sent  for  if  any  change  for  the  worse  occurred. 
Some  of  the  drowsy  pages  and  henchmen  likewise  sought 
repose ;  but  the  medical  attendants  did  not  for  a  moment  quit 
the  king's  bedside. 


62  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER         iProiogue 

Henry  slept  for  several  hours,  and  awoke  towards  noon 
much  refreshed,  and  expressed  a  desire  to  receive  the  sacra- 
ment. After  ordering  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  to  be  summoned, 
the  king  commanded  his  attendants  to  lift  him  out  of  bed, 
and  set  him  again  in  his  chair.  Doctor  Butts  endeavored  to 
dissuade  him  from  this  step,  representing  its  extreme  danger, 
and  counselling  the  easiest  posture  possible  during  the  per- 
formance of  the  holy  office ;  but  Henry  authoritatively  declared 
that  he  would  kneel  down,  whatever  risk  might  be  incurred 
from  the  action,  or  whatever  pain  it  might  give  him ;  adding, 
"  that  if  he  were  not  only  to  cast  himself  upon  the  ground, 
but  under  it,  he  could  not  tender  to  the  sacrament  the  honor 
that  was  its  due. ' '  No  more  was  to  be  said.  His  injunctions 
were  obeyed.  Taken  up  and  placed  within  his  chair,  he  kept 
his  seat  until  the  consecration,  when,  with  much  difficulty,  he 
contrived  to  kneel  down  before  the  bishop,  and  partook  of 
the  bread  and  wine.  Though  his  sufferings  must  have  been 
intense,  he  bore  them  with  the  constancy  of  a  martyr,  and  the 
good  prelate,  who  was  much  affected,  could  not  sufficiently 
admire  his  fortitude.  As  soon  as  the  sacred  rite  was  over, 
the  king  was  conveyed  back  to  his  couch,  and  did  not  appear 
much  worse  for  the  great  effort  he  had  made.  By  his  own 
injunctions,  which  could  not  be  disobeyed,  he  was  then  left 
wholly  undisturbed  until  late  in  the  day. 

This  was  the  evening  of  the  Friday  before  Candlemas -day, 
1547.  About  two  hours  before  midnight,  but  not  till  then, 
the  Earl  of  Hertford,  who  was  in  an  agony  of  impatience  for 
an  audience,  was  permitted  to  approach  the  king.  He  found 
him  lying  on  the  couch,  propped  up  by  immense  pillows.  On 
regarding  him,  Hertford  felt  sure  that  the  king  was  rapidly 
sinking,  though  his  eye  was  still  keen,  and  his  voice  strong 
and  sonorous  as  evero  No  time  must  be  lost — no  risk  heeded 
— if  the  great  stake  for  which  he  was  playing  was  to  be  won. 

**Let  the  chamber  be  cleared,"  said  Henry.  **  Our  dis- 
course must  be  strictly  private." 


Chap,  yill  THE  KING*!S  AlVFUL  SUMMONS  63 

This  being  precisely  what  Hertford  desired,  he  took  care 
that  the  king's  behests  should  be  promptly  obeyed. 

**  We  are  alone,  sire,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  all  the  attend- 
ants, including  Doctor  Butts  and  the  chirurgeon,  had  with- 
drawn. 

*' Hertford,"  said  Henry,  as  the  earl  approached  him, 
**  you  gaze  on  me  as  if  you  thought  me  worse.  Deny  it  not, 
man — I  can  read  your  true  opinion  in  your  looks.  No  wonder 
I  should  appear  greatly  disordered.  Last  night  was  a  dreadful 
one  to  me,  Hertford.  Not  to  purchase  a  fresh  term  of  sover- 
eignty would  I  endure  such  another.  I  cannot  recall  it  with- 
out horror.  I  underwent  the  torments  of  the  damned ;  and 
prayed — unavailingly  prayed — for  release  from  suffering. 
Thou  knowest  I  am  not  idly  superstitious — nor  a  believer 
in  old  wives'  fables.  Prepare  then  to  credit  what  I  shall 
relate,  however  surprising  and  improbable  it  may  seem  to 
thse ;   and  deem  not  that  my  nerves  are  shaken  by  sickness. ' ' 

"Whatever  your  Majesty  shall  tell  me  I  shall  infallibly 
believe — doubt  it  not,"  replied  Hertford.  "And  I  am  well 
assured  that  your  nerves  are  firmly  strung  as  ever. ' ' 

"Thou  liest ! — thou  dost  not  think  so — ^but  they  are.  To 
my  narration,  however — and  give  the  more  heed  to  it,  inas- 
much as  thou  wilt  find  it  concerns  thee  as  well  as  myself ' ' 

* '  Is  there  a  ghost  in  the  story,  my  liege  ? ' '  inquired  Hert- 
ford. 

"  Be  silent,  and  thou  shalt  hear,"  replied  Henry,  sternly. 
"Last  night,  during  a  brief  interval  of  ease  between  my  fits 
of  agony,  I  was  trying  to  court  slumber,  when  I  heard  the  bell 
toll  midnight — I  heard  it  distinctly,  for  I  counted  the  strokes 
— ^and  as  the  last  vibration  of  sound  died  away,  I  turned  to 
Butts  to  bid  him  give  me  a  potion.  He  was  gone,  while 
Ferrys,  who  should  have  been  watchful,  had  sunk  within  the 
chair  nigh  which  thou  standest,  apparently  overcome  by  sleep. 
I  was  about  to  awake  and  chide  him — ^and  should  have  done 
so,  had  not  all  power  of  speech  and  movement  suddenly  left 


64  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOJVER         {PrologM 

me,  as  I  saw  a  phantom — a  grisly,  ghastly  phantom — glide 
towards  my  bed.     Whom  thinkest  thou  I  beheld  ?  '  * 

**  Nay,  I  cannot  guess,  my  liege,"  replied  Hertford. 

''Surrey,  new-risen  from  his  bloody  grave — ^his  noble  fea- 
tures livid  and  disfigured — his  locks  clotted  with  gore — his 
stately  neck  sundered  by  the  axe — ^yet,  marvellous  to  say, 
set  again  upon  the  shoulders — a  spectacle  horrible  to  look 
upon — yet  I  instantly  knew  him.  His  eyes  seemed  to  have 
life  in  them,  and  to  fascinate  like  the  basilisk,  for,  as  he  fixed 
them  upon  me,  I  could  not  avert  my  gaze.  Then  his  lips 
moved,  and  with  a  gesture  of  menace  such  as  I  had  never 
brooked  from  mortal  man,  and  in  accents  more  terrible  than 
had  ever  reached  my  ears,  he  told  me  he  came  to  summon  me 
before  Heaven's  Judgment -Throne ;  and  that  I  must  appear 
there  ere  the  bell  should  again  toll  forth  the  hour  of  mid- 
night." 

"  Let  not  this  weigh  upon  your  mind,  my  gracious  liege,'* 
said  Hertford,  not  wholly  devoid  of  superstitious  fear  himself, 
though  he  strove  thus  to  reassure  the  king.  **  I  was  in  your 
chamber  last  night  at  midnight,  and  long  after,  and  I  saw  and 
heard  nothing  such  as  you  relate.  'Twas  an  ill  dream — but 
only  a  dream.  I  pray  you,  therefore,  dismiss  these  fancies. 
They  are  engendered  by  the  sickness  under  which  you 
labor." 

"No,  Hertford,"  replied  Henry,  in  a  tone  of  profound 
conviction,  **it  was  neither  dream,  nor  product  of  diseased 
imagination.  I  could  not  have  conjured  up  such  a  spectre  if 
I  would — and  I  would  not  if  I  could,"  he  added,  shuddering. 
*'  I  saw  Surrey  plain  enough,  standing  where  thou  art  now.  I 
will  not  tell  thee  all  the  spirit  uttered  of  vengeance  and  retri- 
bution— ^but  it  prophesied  a  bloody  ending  to  thee  and  to  thy 
brother." 

'*  I  have  no  fear  of  the  prediction,"  said  Hertford,  in  a 
tone  that  somewhat  belied  his  words  ;  * '  and  I  beseech  your 
Highness  not  to  attach  any  importance  to  the  vision.     You 


Chap.  K//]  THE  KING'S  ^IVFUL  SUMMONS  65 

have  told  me  how  the  spirit  came  to  you,  but  you  have  not 
explained  how  it  departed.'* 

'*  I  know  not  how  it  vanished,"  replied  Henry.  **  For  a 
time  I  remained  spell -bound,  as  if  under  the  influence  of  night- 
mare ;  but  at  last,  by  a  mighty  effort,  I  broke  the  charm  that 
seemed  to  bind  me,  and  called  out.  I  then  found  the  spirit 
gone,  and  Butts  standing  in  its  place.  Ferrys  also  was 
awake. ' ' 

'*A11  is  now  explained,**  said  Hertford.  **  It  was  the 
nightmare  that  oppressed  your  Highness.  You  need  have  no 
fear.'* 

'*  Fear  ! — I  have  none  !**  ejaculated  the  king.  *'  No  living 
man  ever  made  the  Eighth  Henry  tremble,  nor  can  any  dead 
man  do  it.  This  spirit  may  be  right  as  regards  thee  and 
thy  brother,  but  I  will  prove  it  wrong  in  one  particular. '  * 

' '  By  living  beyond  the  hour  appointed  by  it,  I  trust,  my 
liege,"  said  Hertford.  *^  In  one  of  mortal  mould,  such  a  pre- 
diction would  have  been  treasonable,  but  spirits  are  exempt 
from  common  penalties.** 

*'  The  jest  is  ill  timed,  my  lord,**  observed  Henry,  sternly, 
**  I  will  balk  the  ghost  if  I  can,  by  living  till  to-morrow ;  but 
at  all  events  I  will  balk  him  by  consigning  Norfolk  to  the 
block.  I  will  have  the  duke's  head  before  I  die.  This  will  I 
do,  because  the  ghost  told  me,  as  if  in  mockery,  that  I  should 
be  disappointed.  I  will  send  his  father  to  bear  him  com- 
pany. ' ' 

*' Whatever  may  have  prompted  this  decision,  I  am  glad, 
right  glad,  it  has  been  come  to,"  said  Hertford.  **Were 
Norfolk  permitted  to  live,  he  would  undoubtedly  cause  the 
greatest  embarrassment  to  Prince  Edward  during  his  minority. 
He  might  do  more.  Assisted  by  the  Pope,  the  Emperor 
Charles  V.,  and  their  partisans,  he  might  even  succeed  in 
transferring  the  crown  from  the  young  prince's  head  to  that 
of  the  Princess  Mary,  and  so  undo  all  the  work  that  you, 
sire,  have  so  long  and  so  assiduously  labored  to  accomplish. 
5 


66  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOPVER  IPrologia 

He  might  check  the  Reformation,  as  well  as  alter  the  succes- 
sion. You  have  delivered  Prince  Edward  from  one  danger- 
ous enemy,  Surrey,  but  the  other,  and  the  more  powerful  foe, 
yet  lives." 

"Edward  shall  never  be  molested  by  him,"  rejoined  the 
king.  **  He  shall  be  beheaded  to-morrow  morning.  Get  the 
warrant  for  his  execution  at  once,  and  deliver  it  to  the  Con- 
stable of  the  Tower." 

'*  Why  not  to-night?  "  demanded  Hertford. 

*'At  this  hour!"  exclaimed  Henry,  sternly.  "A  secret 
execution  would  be  set  down  to  fear  or  anger — ^and  I  feel 
neither.  No  ! — to-morrow  morning  will  be  soon  enough.  I 
shall  not  change  my  mind.  Go  for  the  warrant.  Wherefore 
do  you  linger  ? ' ' 

**If  I  might  venture  to  urge  one  matter  on  your  Majesty," 
hesitated  Hertford. 

'*  Ha  !  what  is  it  ?  "  demanded  the  king. 

'*  You  have  wisely  and  deliberately  made  all  your  arrange- 
ments for  the  future,  but  you  have  neglected  the  main  point 
— the  signing  of  your  will.  Here  is  the  instrument,  sire, 
which  you  have  committed  to  my  custody,"  he  added,  pro- 
ducing a  coffer,  and  taking  from  it  several  sheets  of  paper, 
tacked  together  by  a  braid  of  green  and  white  ribbon.  **  It 
lacks  only  your  signature,  or  the  impress  of  your  royal  stamp, 
to  be  complete." 

**  Leave  it  with  me,"  said  Henry,  taking  the  will.  '*  Per- 
chance I  may  make  some  alterations  in  it. ' ' 

"Alterations!"  exclaimed  the  earl,  startled  out  of  his 
habitual  caution. 

"Ay,  alterations!  Wherefore  not?"  cried  the  king, 
sharply  and  suspiciously.  "Marry,  if  it  shall  please  me  to 
erase  your  name  from  the  list  of  my  executors,  I  can  do  so, 
methinks  ? ' ' 

"Far  be  it  from  me  to  dispute  your  Highness' s  power  to 
make  any  changes  you  may  deem  proper, ' '  replied  Hertford, 


Chap.  K///]  THE  KING'S  IVILL  SIGNED  67 

almost  abjectly.  "  But  I  implore  you  not  to  delay  the  sign- 
ing." 

''You  had  best  trouble  me  no  more,"  rejoined  Henry, 
sternly.  * 'About  your  business  straight.  Send  Sir  John 
Gage  to  me.      I  desire  to  consult  him. ' ' 

"  Will  none  other  than  Sir  John  Gage  serve  your  turn?  " 
asked  Hertford. 

"Ha  !  what  is  this?  Dar'st  thou  to  trifle  with  me?  No 
one  but  Gage  wt7/  serve  my  turn.  There  !  thou  art  answered. 
Get  thee  gone !" 

Scarcely  able  to  conceal  his  uneasiness,  Hertford  made  a 
profound  obeisance,  and  departed. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


IN  WHAT  MANNER  THE  KING'S  WILL  WAS  SIGNED 

No  sooner  had  Hertford  quitted  the  chamber  than  Butts 
and  Ferrys,  with  a  host  of  pages  and  henchmen,  re-entered  it. 
The  physician  hurried  towards  his  royal  patient's  couch,  and 
proceeded  to  feel  his  pulse. 

' '  What  think  you  of  me  ?  ' '  demanded  Henry,  looking 
fixedly  at  him.      "  Any  change  for  the  better? — ha  !" 

"None,  sire,"  replied  the  physician,  gravely. 

"  I  understand, "  rejoined  the  king,  with  great  firmness. 
"  Shall  I  last  till  to-morrow?     Speak  truth ;  I  can  bear  it." 

"If  Heaven  wills  it,  your  Majesty  will  last  so  long," 
answered  the  physician,  with  increased  gravity.  "You  are 
now  in  far  mightier  hands  than  mine.  I  can  do  little  more 
to  aid  you." 

Henry  bore  this  dread  announcement  bravely.  Leaning 
back  upon  his  pillow,  and  looking  upwards,  he  seemed  for  a 


68  THE  CONST/tBLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         [Prohgw 

while  to  be  silently  engaged  in  prayer.  The  physician  signed 
to  the  attendants  to  keep  still,  so  that  the  king  was  wholly 
undisturbed. 

At  length,  the  profound  silence  was  broken  by  Henry,  who, 
slightly  raising  himself,  and  turning  to  Butts,  said,  "  May  I 
have  a  draught  of  wine?     Methinks  it  would  do  me  good." 

"  Ay,  marry  !  sire,  here  is  a  stoup  of  your  favorite  Gascoigne 
wine,'*  replied  the  physician,  filling  a  silver  cup  with  the 
generous  fluid,  and  presenting  it  to  him.  '*  I  am  right  glad 
to  find  you  so  stout  of  heart." 

'*  Enough  !"  exclaimed  the  king,  putting  away  the  goblet 
with  disgust,  after  placing  it  to  his  lips ;  "  the  wine  likes  me 
not.     It  tastes  of  blood — ^pah  !" 

'*  Will  it  please  you  to  eat  a  mouthful  of  chicken-cuUis?" 
asked  Butts. 

''No;  I  will  eat  nothing  more,"  replied  Henry.  **  Let 
Sir  John  Gage  be  sent  for  with  all  despatch.  Why  comes  he 
not?" 

**  He  shall  be  summoned  instantly,"  replied  Butts,  issuing 
the  necessary  orders,  and  then  returning  to  the  king's  bedside. 
''Pardon  me,  sire,"  he  continued,  in  a  low,  earnest  voice, 
"  if  I  venture  to  remind  you  that  you  have  left  a  most  im- 
portant matter  undone.  Your  will,  I  perceive,  is  lying  before 
you.     Delay  not  the  signing  of  it,  I  beseech  you  !" 

"I  will  not  sign  it  till  I  have  spoken  with  Gage,"  replied 
Henry,  peremptorily.      "There  will  be  time  to  do  it  then." 

"Pray  Heaven  there  may!"  exclaimed  the  physician. 
"  Not  a  moment  ought  to  be  lost." 

"Why  comes  not  Sir  John?"  demanded  Henry,  after  a 
pause,  in  a  loud,  fierce  tone.  "  Send  for  him  again ;  and  bid 
him  come  quickly,  if  he  values  his  life. ' ' 

"  He  is  here,  my  liege,"  replied  Butts,  as  the  Constable  of 
the  Tower  entered  the  chamber,  with  a  paper  in  his  hand. 

"Ha!  you  are  come  at  last.  Sir  John,"  cried  the  king, 
sharply.      "  Leave  us  alone  together,"  he  added. 


Chap.  VlWi  THE  KING'S  IVILL  SIGNED  69 

Whereupon  the  chamber  was  at  once  vacated  by  all  save 
Gage.  But,  ere  the  private  conference  began,  the  arras  on 
the  further  side  of  the  king's  couch  was  cautiously  raised,  and 
Hertford  stole  into  the  room,  and  unperceived  either  by  Gage 
or  the  king,  concealed  himself  behind  the  thick  curtains  of 
the  bed.  The  stealthy  entrance  of  the  earl  was  favored  by 
the  circumstance  that  this  part  of  the  chamber  was  almost 
buried  in  darkness. 

"  What  paper  hast  thou  in  thine  hand  ? ' '  demanded  Henry 
of  the  constable. 

**  One  I  would  rather  be  without,"  answered  Gage,  gruffly 
— ^*'the  warrant  for  Norfolk's  execution  to-morrow." 

**  See  it  done,"  rejoined  Henry,  coldly. 

**  If  it  be  done,  your  last  act  will  be  one  of  injustice  and 
cruelty,"  retorted  the  constable. 

*'  How  knowest  thou  it  will  be  my  last  act  ?  "  said  Henry, 
furiously.  ''  I  may  live  long  enough  to  have  thine  own  head 
as  well  as  Norfolk's." 

** I  had  rather  you  had  mine  than  his,"  said  Gage ;  "and 
your  own  ingratitude  would  be  less.  Norfolk  has  served  you 
longer  and  better  than  I  have  done. '  * 

'  *  Norfolk  is  dangerous  to  my  son,  and  therefore  he  must 
be  removed — and  quickly.  No  more  words  !  Again  I  say  to 
thee,  see  it  done  !" 

''I  like  it  not,"  grumbled  the  constable.   '*  'Tis  a  foul  deed." 

**  Hold  thy  peace  !  and  turn  we  to  another  matter.  Thou 
hast  assisted  at  the  debates  concerning  ray  will,  and  know'st 
its  contents  generally.  Thou  know'st  also  that  I  have  ap- 
pointed sixteen  executors  and  twelve  counsellors,  and  that 
amongst  the  executors  is  Hertford." 

**  This  I  know  !"   returned  Gage. 

'  *  My  mind  misgives  me  as  to  Hertford, ' '  pursued  Henry. 
**  Something  I  have  noticed  in  him  of  late  makes  me  suspect 
him  of  sinister  designs.  I  fear  he  aims  at  too  much  power, 
and  will  not  be  altogether  true  to  Edward. ' ' 


7©  THE  COmTABLS  OF  THE   TOWER         {Prologue 

**  Yet  the  prince  is  his  nephew,  and  must  therefore  be  most 
dear  to  him, ' '  observed  Gage. 

'  *  He  ought  to  be, '  *  rejoined  Henry.  **  You  judge  of  others 
by  yourself,  good  Sir  John — ^but  all  are  not  of  your  stamp. 
If  I  thought  my  suspicions  of  Hertford  were  correct,  I  would 
strike  out  his  name." 

"  Nay,  do  not  that,  I  entreat  you,  my  liege*  I  think  him 
faithful,"  said  the  constable. 

'*  Thy  opinion  is  ever  honest,  and  I  will  be  guided  by  it," 
said  the  king.  **  Hertford's  name  shall  stand,  though  I  had 
determined  otherwise.  But  I  will  control  him.  At  present, 
thou  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  are  mere  counsellors,  without 
voice  or  power.  Ye  both  shall  be  executors,  and  have  equal 
power  with  Hertford." 

' '. I  cannot  answer  for  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,"  rejoined  Gage ; 
**but,  for  myself,  I  may  say  that  I  desire  not  the  office." 

"I  will  have  no  refusal,"  said  Henry,  authoritatively. 
'*  Sir  Thomas  is  Edward's  favorite  uncle.  The  boy  loves  him, 
and  is  beloved  in  return.  Sir  Thomas  will  guard  him  well — 
as  thou  wilt — ha  ? ' ' 

"Sir  Thomas  is  more  to  be  feared  than  his  brother,  ac- 
cording to  my  judgment,'*  observed  Gage. 

**  There  thou  art  wrong,"  rejoined  Henry.  *  Sir  Thomas 
is  rash  and  headstrong,  but  trusty  as  steel.  I  have  tried 
him." 

*'  Humph  !"  ejaculated  the  constable,  dubiously.  "  Since 
your  Majesty  designs  to  make  these  changes  in  your  will,  why 
should  Gardiner  be  left  out?  He  is  the  ablest  among  the 
prelates,  and  of  great  experience  in  politics.  Moreover,  he 
has  done  your  highness  many  notable  services. ' ' 

*'  For  the  which  he  hath  been  well  rewarded,"  interrupted 
Henry,  sternly.  *'  I  will  have  none  of  him.  Gardiner  hath 
ability  enough,  but  he  is  a  subtle  intriguer,  and  would  set  ye 
all  by  the  ears.  I  can  manage  him,  but  no  one  else  can. 
Thou  art  a  Papist,  Sir  John,  hence  thy  recommendation  of 


Chap.  Vml  THE  KINGS  WILL  SIGNED  71 

Gardiner.  But  he  shall  have  no  power  to  breed  discord  in 
the  Church  when  I  am  gone.  It  is  quite  enough  that  Wriothes- 
ley  should  be  retained — I  had  thoughts  of  erasing  his  name 
likewise,  and  substituting  the  Marquis  of  Dorset.** 

' '  I  pray  you  do  not,  sire, ' '  said  Gage. 

''  Nay,  thou  mayst  spare  thy  suing.  I  am  content  to  keep 
the  lord  chancellor.  I  do  not  think  he  will  do  much  mis- 
chief, and  he  will  counterbalance  Cranmer.  Haste,  then, 
and  fetch  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  and  let  William  Clerc  be  in 
attendance  with  my  secret  stamp.  My  fingers  are  so  swollen 
that  I  cannot  use  the  pen." 

''  Heavens !  is  it  possible  your  Majesty  can  have  been  so 
imprudent  as  to  put  off  the  signing  of  your  will  till  now  ?  You 
might  have  died  last  night ;  and  then *  * 

''Prate  not,  but  do  as  I  have  commanded  thee,'*  inter- 
rupted the  king.      * '  Yet  stay  ! — is  Cranmer  in  the  palace  ? '  * 

'  'Ay,  my  liege ;  his  grace  is  but  newly  returned  from  Croy- 
don," replied  the  constable. 

"  That  is  well.  Let  him  come  to  me  anon,**  said  the  king, 
more  feebly.  *'  This  talk  has  wearied  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
sleep.  Send  Butts  to  watch  by  me,  but  let  me  not  be  other- 
wise disturbed  for  an  hour. ' ' 

" But  the  execution  of  the  will,  sire? — it  is  most  urgent,'* 
cried  the  constable. 

But  Henry  made  no  reply.  He  had  already  begun  to 
breathe  heavily  and  stertorously. 

After  gazing  at  him  for  a  moment,  as  if  in  doubt  whether 
to  rouse  him.  Gage  left  the  room. 

No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  Hertford  peered  from  behind 
the  curtain ;  and  seeing  that  Henry  was  asleep — and,  indeed, 
his  loud  breathing  proclaimed  the  fact — ^he  stepped  cautiously 
forward. 

At  the  same  moment.  Butts  entered  the  chamber.  Alarmed 
by  Henry's  breathing,  without  noticing  the  earl,  he  rushed  to 
the  king's  bedside. 


72  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         [Prologtu 

**  *Tis  as  I  feared,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  turning  to  Hert- 
ford. "  This  is  the  lethargy  of  death.  He  will  never  wake 
again — or,  if  he  should,  his  mind  will  wander.  Great  Henry's 
power  has  left  him.  The  absolute  monarch  is  all  helpless 
now. ' ' 

*'  I  would  not  rouse  him  from  his  trance,  but  let  him  go, 
were  it  not  that  the  will  remains  unsigned  !"  exclaimed  Hert- 
ford, distractedly.  **I  must  wake  him,'*  he  added,  rushing 
towards  the  bed. 

**  It  is  in  vain,  I  tell  you,"  said  Butts,  staying  him. 

"Let  me  go,  sir,"  said  the  earl,  furiously.  '*I  shall  go 
mad  if  1  lose  this  great  prize. '  * 

*'  You  need  not  lose  it,"  replied  Butts.  **  The  will  is  here. 
Take  it,  and  get  it  stamped.  The  keeper  of  the  royal  signet 
may  be  bribed  to  acquiesce,  and  witnesses  can  be  procured  in 
the  same  way.  * ' 

"Your  counsel  is  good,  but  it  cannot  be  followed,"  cried 
Hertford.  "  Sir  John  Gage  knows  that  his  Majesty  designed 
to  make  some  alteration  in  his  will,  and  that  it  is  unsigned. 
The  constable  is  impracticable;  there  is  no  purchasing  his 
silence.     All  is  lost." 

"Not  so,"  rejoined  the  ready-witted  physician,  apparently 
troubled  with  as  few  scruples  as  Hertford  himself.  "As  yet, 
no  one  but  ourselves  is  aware  of  the  king's  condition.  The 
signing  of  the  will  shall  not  be  disputed,  even  by  Gage.  Bring 
hither  the  keeper  of  the  signet ;  bring  also  the  Earls  of  Essex 
and  Arundel,  Sir  William  Paget,  Sir  William  Herbert,  and 
any  others  upon  whom  you  can  rely,  to  serve  as  witnesses. 
Leave  the  rest  to  me.     About  it,  quick  !" 

" It  shall  be  done;  and  if  the  scheme  prosper,  I  shall  not 
be  wanting  in  gratitude  to  its  bold  contriver, ' '  replied  Hert- 
ford. "  While  I  am  on  my  errand,  do  you  give  orders,  as  if 
from  his  Majesty,  that  no  one  but  myself  and  those  you  have 
mentioned  be  allowed  to  enter  the  chamber.  Our  plan  will  be 
marred  infallibly  if  Gage  and  my  brother  gain  admittance. ' ' 


Chap.  K///]  THE  KING'S   fVILL  SIGNED  73 

Butts  promised  compliance,  and  Hertford  disappeared  by 
the  secret  entrance. 

The  physician  next  wetted  a  napkin,  and  applied  it  to 
Henry's  brow,  shifting  the  pillows  at  the  same  time,  so  that 
the  breathing  of  the  dying  monarch  became  sensibly  relieved. 
He  then  drew  the  curtains  about  the  bed,  so  as  to  hide  in 
a  great  measure  the  upper  part  of  the  king's  person;  and 
afterwards  placed  a  small  table,  with  writing  materials  upon 
it,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  couch  on  the  left;  so  dis- 
posing the  lights  within  the  chamber  that  the  bed  was  left 
completely  in  darkness. 

These  precautions  taken,  he  proceeded  to  the  ante-chamber, 
and  calling  the  chief  usher,  gave  him  the  orders  that  had  been 
suggested  by  Hertford. 

He  was  only  just  in  time,  for  he  had  scarcely  retired  when 
the  Constable  of  the  Tower  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  made 
their  appearance ;  but  they  were  refused  admittance  to  the 
king's  chamber.  In  vain  Seymour,  who  was  full  of  anxiety 
and  impatience,  remonstrated.     The  ushers  were  inexorable. 

Ere  long  came  a  grave -looking  personage  in  a  black  robe, 
with  a  small  box  under  his  arm.  This  was  William  Clerc, 
the  keeper  of  the  royal  signet.  He  was  allowed  instant  en- 
trance. 

Shortly  afterwards  came  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  accompanied 
by  the  Earls  of  Essex  and  Arundel,  and  the  others  designated 
by  Butts,  all  wearing  countenances  of  extreme  gravity,  as  if 
bound  upon  some  object  of  the  utmost  seriousness  and  impor- 
tance. Bowing  solemnly  to  Gage  and  Seymour,  they  passed 
on,  and  were  instantly  admitted. 

**This  is  very  strange,"  remarked  Gage.  "I  cannot 
understand  it.  His  Majesty  told  me  himself  that  he  would 
not  be  disturbed  for  an  hour.  Are  you  quite  sure,  sir,  that 
the  orders  are  express  against  our  admittance  ?  "  he  added,  to 
the  chief  usher. 

**  Quite  sure.  Sir  John,"  replied  the  individual  addressed. 


74  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Prologue 

bowing  respectfully.  "Doctor  Butts  delivered  them  to  me 
himself. ' ' 

"  Hertford  has  outwitted  us,  Sir  John,"  remarked  Seymour. 
"  We  shall  neither  of  us  be  executors. ' ' 

'*  For  my  own  part,  I  care  not, ' '  rejoined  Gage.  "  I  do  not 
covet  the  distinction.  But  I  hope  the  king's  intentions  will 
be  strictly  carried  out.** 

Not  long  after  this  came  Cranmer,  who  marched  straight 
towards  the  door,  but  was  detained  like  the  others.  The 
archbishop  then  joined  Gage  and  Seymour,  and  was  talking 
with  them  of  the  king's  dangerous  condition,  and  deeply 
deploring  it,  when  Butts  appeared  at  the  door,  and  after 
a  word  from  him  to  the  usher,  all  three  were  admitted. 

"What  they  beheld  was  this.  Grouped  round  the  little 
table,  with  writing  materials  upon  it,  were  the  persons  who 
had  subscribed  the  will  as  witnesses.  Nearer  the  darkened 
couch,  but  with  his  back  towards  it,  stood  William  Clerc,  by 
whom,  previous  to  its  attestation,  the  will  had  been  stamped 
at  the  top  of  the  first  page  and  the  end  of  the  last,  and  who 
had  just  delivered  the  instrument,  thus  signed  and  attested,  to 
Hertford. 

Butts  explained  to  Cranmer  and  the  others  that  his  Majesty 
had  had  just  sufficient  strength  to  direct  the  stamping  of  his 
will,  but  that  immediately  after  this  was  done,  and  the  attes- 
tation completed,  he  was  struck  speechless. 

'*It  is  marvellous  that  he  lasted  so  long,"  continued  the 
wily  physician.  ''He  spoke  so  feebly,  that  I  alone  could 
catch  his  words.  I  fear  he  will  scarcely  know  your  Grace," 
he  added,  preceding  Cranmer  to  the  bed,  and  drawing  back 
the  curtain  so  as  to  expose  the  woeful  figure  of  the  king, 
who  was  now  evidently  in  extremis;  ''he  hath  but  little  life 
left." 

"I  will  try,"  replied  the  archbishop.  Taking  the  king's 
hand  in  his  own,  he  drew  close  to  him,  and  in  tones  of  the 
utmost  earnestness  exhorted  him  to  place  his  trust  in  Christ, 


Chap,  yilll  THE  KING'S  WILL  SIGNED  75 

and  to  call  upon  His  Mercy,  beseeching  him,  if  he  had  any 
consciousness  left,  to  give  him  some  token  that  he  trusted 
in  the  Lord. 

Henry  seemed  to  understand  what  was  said  to  him,  for  he 
slightly  strained  the  primate's  hand. 

After  a  while,  the  archbishop  turned  to  the  assemblage,  now 
gathered  round  the  bed,  and,  in  a  voice  of  the  deepest  solem- 
nity, said,  "It  has  pleased  Heaven  to  call  to  its  mercy  our 
great  king.     Pray  ye  all  for  the  repose  of  his  soul  !** 

Upon  this  they  all  knelt  down,  and,  while  they  were  doing 
so,  the  bell  tolled  forth  the  hour  of  midnight. 

Then  Hertford  called  to  mind  what  the  king  had  said  to  him 
concerning  the  summons  by  the  spirit,  and  he  trembled  ex- 
ceedingly. 


Thus  far  the  Prologue 


BOOK  I 

THE  LORD  PROTECTOR 


CHAPTER  1 


HOW  THE  EARL  OF  HERTFORD  AND  SIR  ANTHONY  BROWN 
ANNOUNCED  HIS  FATHER'S  DEATH  TO  PRINCE  EDWARD 

For  two  days  Henry's  demise  was  kept  profoundly  secret. 
On  Monday,  the  last  day  of  January,  1547,  the  Commons 
were  sent  for  to  the  Lords,  and  the  important  intelligence 
was  communicated  to  them  by  the  Lord  Chancellor  Wriothes- 
ley,  who,  at  that  same  time,  acquainted  them  with  such  por- 
tions of  the  late  king's  will  as  it  was  deemed  expedient  to 
make  public.  The  interval  between  the  monarch's  death  and 
this  public  announcement  of  it  had  been  employed  by  Hert- 
ford and  his  partisans  in  organizing  their  plans,  and  debating 
the  measures  to  be  adopted  during  the  new  reign.  Most  of 
the  upper  council,  in  whom  the  administrative  authority  was 
lodged,  had  been  won  over  by  Hertford's  promises,  and  it  was 
not  thought  that  any  serious  opposition  would  be  offered  by 
such  as  could  not  be  corrupted — amongst  whom  were  Cran- 
mer  and  Tunstal.  The  only  real  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the 
aspiring  earl  appeared  to  be  the  Lord  Chancellor ;  but  even 
he  might  be  brought  over,  or,  if  troublesome,  could  be  put 
out.  Thus  Hertford  felt  secure,  and  determined  upon  the 
immediate  realization  of  his  schemes  of  aggrandizement. 

As  regarded  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  Henry's  death,  occurring 
when  it  did,  at  a  moment  of  such  extraordinary  peril  to  that 
illustrious  nobleman,  was  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune,  and 
was  regarded  by  many  who  adhered  to  the  old  belief  as 
nothing  less  than  providential.  Had  Hertford,  however,  been 
allowed  his  own  way,  the  duke  would  infallibly  have  been 
executed  in  accordance  with  Henry's  warrant;  but  Sir  John 
Gage  resolutely  refused  to  obey  it,  threatening,  if  the  matter 

79 


8o  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  I 

were  persisted  in,  to  publish  abroad  the  king's  death.  By  these 
means  Norfolk  was  saved,  though  he  was  still  detained  a  pris- 
oner in  the  Tower. 

The  young  Prince  Edward  himself  was  kept  in  ignorance 
of  the  loss  he  had  sustained  until  the  Sunday,  when  it  was  an- 
nounced to  him  by  his  elder  uncle  in  person,  attended  by  Sir 
Anthony  Brown,  master  of  the  horse,  and  devoted  to  the  earl. 
The  young  prince  was  staying  at  Hertford  with  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  whither  they  had  been  sent  after  their  last  inter- 
view with  their  royal  father.  The  earl  and  his  companions 
found  the  prince  engaged  in  reading  Ludovicus  Vives's  "  In- 
struction of  a  Christian  Woman' '  to  his  sister.  Closing  the 
book,  and  quitting  the  reading-desk  near  which  he  was  sta- 
tioned, Edward  immediately  advanced  to  meet  them.  He 
was  greatly  affected  by  the  intelligence  which  they  brought 
him,  though  not  unprepared  for  it,  and  though  it  was  con- 
veyed in  terms  and  in  a  manner  calculated  to  rob  it  of  much 
of  its  distressing  effect. 

Kneeling  down  before  him,  the  earl  and  Sir  Anthony  sa- 
luted him  as  king,  and  tendered  him  their  homage.  Edward 
was  too  much  afflicted  to  make  any  suitable  reply.  He  turned 
away,  and  flinging  himself  into  the  arms  of  his  sister,  who  was 
standing  beside  him,  and  equally  grieved  with  himself,  he 
mingled  his  tears  with  hers.  **  Never,"  says  Sir  John  Hay- 
ward,  describing  the  occurrence,  **was  sorrow  more  sweetly 
set  forth,  their  faces  seeming  rather  to  beautify  their  sorrow, 
than  their  sorrow  to  cloud  their  faces.  Their  young  years, 
their  excellent  beauties,  their  lovely  and  lively  interchange 
of  complaints  in  such  sort  graced  their  grief,  as  the  most  iron 
eyes  at  that  time  present  were  drawn  thereby  into  society  of 
their  tears. ' ' 

Deeming  it  best  to  let  his  royal  nephew's  grief  have  free 
course,  Hertford  did  not  off"er  him  any  consolation  at  first, 
but  arising  from  his  kneeling  posture,  he  withdrew  to  a  little 
distance  with  Sir  Anthony. 


Chap.  /]  HENRY'S  DEATH  ANNOUNCED  8l 

''We  have  lost  the  best  of  fathers,  Elizabeth,"  said  Edward, 
at  last,  looking  up  at  her  face  through  his  tears.  *'  But  he  is 
in  Heaven,  and  therefore  we  need  not  mourn  for  him.  Yet  I 
cannot  help  it. "     And  he  wept  afresh. 

''Be  comforted,  gentle  brother,"  said  the  princess,  tenderly. 
"  Our  father  is  happily  released  from  suffering.  I  did  not 
think  we  should  ever  see  him  again  on  earth.  You  must  be  a 
man  now,  since  you  are  king. ' ' 

"Alas!"  exclaimed  Edward,  sobbing.  "My  heart  sinks 
at  the  thought  of  it." 

"And  mine  swells  at  the  bare  idea,"  rejoined  the  princess. 
"  Cheer  up,  dear  brother — or  I  ought  rather  to  say,  my 
gracious  lord  and  master,  for  you  are  so  now.  How  strange 
that  sounds,  Edward  !  Marry  !  it  must  be  mighty  fine  to  be 
king — to  wear  the  diadem,  and  sit  in  state,  to  swear  great 
oaths,  and  have  all  tremble  at  your  frown — as  they  used  to  do 
at  our  father's." 

"Elizabeth!"  said  Edward,  with  something  of  reproach. 
"  Is  this  a  season  for  jesting  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  do  not  jest,"  she  replied,  seriously.  "  I  but  gave 
utterance  to  thoughts  that  arose  unbidden  in  my  breast.  I 
have  ever  spoken  without  restraint  to  you,  dearest  brother. ' ' 

"And  I  trust  you  ever  will  do  so,"  he  rejoined,  affection- 
ately. "I  love  you,  sweet  Bess.  You  shall  be  my  chief 
counsellor.     I  will  confide  all  my  secrets  to  you.  * ' 

"Your  uncle  Hertford  will  not  let  you,"  she  returned. 
"  He  is  watching  us  narrowly  now — trying  to  make  out  what 
you  are  saying  to  me.     Have  a  care  of  him,  Edward. ' ' 

' '  I  would  my  uncle  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  were  here, ' '  said  the 
young  king ;  ' '  but  I  am  told  he  has  been  denied  access  to  me. " 

" By  whom? — ^by  my  lord  of  Hertford?"  demanded  Eliz- 
abeth. 

"Very  likely,"  returned  Edward.      "But  I  wt7/ see  him 
now  I  am  king.     Sir  Thomas  is  a  great  favorite  of  yours, 
Bess?— ha!" 
6 


82  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBookl 

**Sir  Thomas  discourses  pleasantly,  dances  well,  and  hath 
an  excellent  ear  for  music,"  she  replied. 

*'And  is  very  handsome  withal — own  you  think  so,  Bess  ?  " 

''Nay,  I  have  never  bestowed  enough  consideration  upon 
him  to  declare  if  he  be  handsome  or  otherwise, '  *  she  replied, 
blushing  slightly. 

'*Out  on  my  unruly  tongue  for  leading  me  thus  astray !" 
exclaimed  Edward,  suddenly  checking  himself.  '  *  A  moment 
ago  I  chided  you  for  unseasonable  levity,  dear  Bess,  and  I 
now  am  indulging  in  it  myself.  Come  with  me  to  my  uncle 
Hertford." 

With  this  he  took  her  hand,  and  the  young  pair  slowly, 
and  with  much  dignity,  directed  their  steps  towards  the  earl, 
who  instantly  advanced  with  Sir  Anthony  to  meet  them. 

' '  I  am  glad  to  see  your  grace  look  somewhat  lighter  of 
heart,"  said  Hertford,  bowing  profoundly;  *'  for  though  grief 
at  so  great  a  loss  is  natural,  and  indeed  commendable,  you 
have  many  necessary  duties  to  fulfil  which  cannot  be  delayed, 
and  the  discharge  whereof  will  serve  to  distract  you  from  the 
thoughts  of  your  bereavement.  I  am  come,  with  Sir  Anthony 
Brown,  your  master  of  the  horse,  to  escort  your  Majesty  to 
Enfield,  where  you  will  sleep  to-night.  To-morrow  you  will 
be  conducted  to  the  Tower,  there  to  meet  all  the  lords,  spir- 
itual and  temporal,  who  will  assemble  to  tender  their  alle- 
giance. Have  you  much  preparation  to  make  ere  setting 
out?" 

'*  Not  much,  my  lord — not  any,  indeed,"  replied  Edward. 
*'  I  am  ready  to  attend  you  now.  But  I  would  fain  bid  fare- 
well to  my  preceptors — unless  they  are  to  go  with  me,  which 
I  should  much  prefer." 

*'  They  shall  follow  anon,"  returned  Hertford.  **  But  you 
will  have  so  much  to  do  at  first,  that  you  must,  perforce,  dis- 
continue your  studies  for  awhile.  Your  Grace  will  be  pleased 
to  say  nothing  to  your  preceptors  as  to  what  takes  you  hence, 
for  the  proclamation  will  not  be  made  before  to-morrow,  and 


Chap.I'i  HENRY *S  DEATH  ANNOUNCED  83 

till  then,  for  reasons  I  will  presently  explain,  the  utmost 
secrecy  as  to  the  demise  of  your  royal  father  must  be  ob- 
served. This  premised,  I  will  cause  them  to  be  summoned. 
Ho,  there  ! "  he  added,  to  an  attendant.  *  *  Let  Sir  John  Cheke 
and  Doctor  Cox  be  called.  His  highness  is  about  to  set  forth 
for  Enfield." 

*'  Nay,  I  will  go  to  them,"  cried  Edward. 

'*Your  Majesty's  pardon,"  rejoined  Hertford,  in  a  low 
tone  j   *^  they  must  now  wait  on  you.  * ' 

Presently  afterwards,  two  ancient  personages,  of  very 
thoughtful  and  studious  aspect,  clad  alike  in  long  black 
gowns  bordered  with  fur,  and  having  velvet  caps  on  their 
bald  heads,  entered  the  hall.  The  foremost  of  them,  the 
learned  Sir  John  Cheke,  carried  a  ponderous  folio  under 
his  arm;  the  other  was  the  no  less  erudite  Doctor  Cox. 
Being  afflicted  with  gout,  and  requiring  the  support  of  a 
staff.  Doctor  Cox  came  on  rather  more  slowly  than  his  fellow- 
tutor. 

Sprung  from  an  ancient  family,  a  ripe  scholar,  a  proficient  in 
oratory,  and  remarkably  well  versed  in  the  Platonic  philosophy, 
Sir  John  Cheke  was  the  author  of  several  learned  treatises,  and 
is  described  by  Doctor  Thomas  Wilson,  secretary  of  state 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  knew  him  well,  as  '*  that  rare  learned 
man,  and  singular  ornament  of  the  land."  His  sister  was 
wedded  to  Cecil,  afterwards  the  great  Lord  Burleigh.  To 
philosophy,  Cheke' s  fellow-preceptor,  Doctor  Cox,  added 
a  profound  knowledge  of  divinity.  Both  Edward's  tutors 
were  extremely  zealous  Reformers,  and  it  was  no  doubt  owing 
to  their  judicious  training  that  the  young  king  became  one 
of  the  brightest  ornaments  and  most  effectual  supporters  of  the 
Protestant  cause. 

Edward  flew  to  meet  his  preceptors,  and,  running  up  to 
Doctor  Cox,  cried,  '*Lean  on  me,  good  Doctor — lean  on 
me!" 

Cox  respectfully  declined  his  aid,  but  suffered  him  to  take 


84  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

his  hand,  and  so  lead  him  towards  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  who 
was  in  the  act  of  courteously  saluting  Sir  John  Cheke. 

*'My  royal  pupil  tells  me  your  lordship  is  about  to  take 
him  hence,"  said  Doctor  Cox,  bowing  to  the  earl.  **  I  am 
sorry  his  studies  will  be  interrupted." 

"They  will  only  be  interrupted  for  a  time.  Doctor," 
replied  Hertford.  '*Most  like  he  will  not  return  here,"  he 
added,  with  a  certain  significance,  **but  you  and  Sir  John 
Cheke  will  rejoin  him.  His  Highness  derives  too  much 
benefit  from  the  able  tuition  of  ye  both  to  be  longer  deprived 
of  it  than  is  absolutely  needful.  Ye  spare  no  pains  with  him, 
learned  sirs,  of  that  I  am  well  satisfied. ' ' 

'  *  Few  pains  are  needed,  my  lord, ' '  replied  Cheke.  ' '  More 
credit  is  due  to  his  Highness  than  to  us  for  the  rapid  progress 
he  hath  made.  Trouble  or  difficulty  with  him  we  have  none, 
for  he  hath  a  rare  capacity  for  learning,  and  zeal  and  industry 
equal  to  his  ability;  and  that  is  saying  no  light  thing.  He 
never  tires  of  reading,  but  turns  from  profane  history  to  phi- 
losophy, and  from  philosophy  to  the  Holy  Scriptures  and 
theology.  He  is  mastering  all  the  liberal  sciences.  Logic 
he  hath  studied,  as  your  lordship  knows,  and  at  this  present  he 
is  learning  Aristotle's  Ethics  in  Greek,  and,  having  finished 
with  it,  he  will  take  up  the  Rhetoric. ' ' 

**  I  can  corroborate  all  Sir  John  hath  advanced,"  observed 
Doctor  Cox.  ,  "His  Highness  needs  no  spur  to  study — nay, 
his  application  is  so  great  that  he  rather  requires  to  be 
checked  than  stimulated.  He  hath  recently  read  Cato,  the 
Satellitium  of  Vives^  and  the  fables  of  ^sopus.  As  to 
Latin,  he  knows  it  better  than  many  an  English  boy  of 
his  age  knows  his  mother  tongue.  Peradventure,  your  lord- 
ship hath  seen  his  letters  in  that  language  to  the  king  his 
father?" 

"I  pray  you  speak  not  of  them,  dear  Doctor,"  cried 
Edward,  bursting  into  tears. 

"  I  crave  your  Highness' s  pardon  !"  exclaimed  the  worthy 


Chap.  /]  HENRY'S  DEATH  ANNOUNCED  85 

man,  who  was  most  tenderly  attached  to  his  royal  pupil.  "  I 
would  not  pain  you  for  the  world.  * ' 

'*  I  know  it,"  replied  Edward,  regarding  him  through  his 
streaming  eyes  with  almost  filial  affection  ;  '*  but  my  heart  is 
too  full  just  now,  and  will  overflow. '  * 

'*  Your  accounts  of  my  royal  nephew's  progress  are  most 
gratifying,  learned  sirs,"  observed  Hertford,  anxious  to  turn 
the  discourse.  '*That  you  have  avouched  nothing  more 
than  the  truth,  I  am  sure ;  yet  ye  almost  make  him  out  a 
prodigy." 

"And  a  prodigy  he  is,"  cried  Sir  John  Cheke,  with  enthu- 
siasm.     "  Few  there  be  like  him. " 

"Nay,  my  good  uncle,  you  must  distrust  what  my  kind 
preceptors  are  pleased  to  say  of  me,"  remarked  Edward. 
"  They  view  me  with  too  partial  eyes." 

At  this  juncture  an  interruption,  anything  but  agreeable  to 
Hertford,  was  offered  by  the  unexpected  entrance  of  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  evidently,  from  his  looks  and  the  state  of 
his  apparel,  fresh  from  a  rapid  journey.  Disregarding  the 
angry  glances  directed  against  him  by  his  brother.  Sir  Thomas 
doffed  his  cap,  flung  himself  on  his  knee  before  Edward,  and 
taking  the  youthful  monarch's  hand,  exclaimed,  "  God  save 
your  Grace  !  I  hoped  to  be  first  to  tell  you  that  the  sover- 
eignty of  this  realm  hath  devolved  upon  you,  but  I  find  I  have 
been  anticipated. ' ' 

"I  thank  you  heartily,  gentle  uncle,"  replied  Edward, 
"not  for  your  news,"  he  added,  sadly,  "for  I  had  liefer  you 
had  brought  me  any  other,  but  for  your  display  of  loyalty  and 
attachment. ' ' 

"  Have  I  and  my  fellow-preceptor  been  standing  all  this 
while  in  the  presence  of  our  gracious  sovereign  without  know- 
ing it?  "  exclaimed  Sir  John  Cheke,  as  Seymour  arose.  "  I 
pray  you  pardon  us,  and  accept  our  homage. ' ' 

So  saying,  he  and  Doctor  Cox  knelt  down  before  the  young 
king,  who  gave  them  each  a  hand. 


86  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

*'Inow  see  my  inadvertence,"  said  Cox,  ''and  I  again 
pray  your  Majesty  to  pardon  it." 

*'  Think  of  it  no  more,"  replied  Edward.  ''Arise,  my  be- 
loved monitors  and  preceptors.  It  is  true  I  am  your  sovereign 
lord,  but  you  must  still  only  regard  me  as  a  pupil." 

"You  have  done  wrong  in  coming  here,  sir,  without  au- 
thority, ' '  said  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  in  a  stern  tone,  to  his 
brother,  "and  will  incur  the  displeasure  of  the  council." 

"  So  I  incur  not  his  Majesty's  displeasure,  I  shall  rest  per- 
fectly easy  as  to  the  council's  anger,"  rejoined  Seymour,  in 
a  tone  of  haughty  indifference. 

"  Having  discharged  an  errand  which  you  have  most  offi- 
ciously and  unwarrantably  taken  upon  yourself, ' '  pursued  the 
earl,  with  increasing  wrath,  "  you  will  be  pleased  to  depart. 
— How  !  do  you  loiter  ?  " 

"  His  Majesty  has  not  commanded  me  to  withdraw,  and  I 
only  obey  him,"  returned  Seymour,  carelessly. 

' '  Nay,  my  good  lord, ' '  said  Edward  to  the  earl,  ' '  my 
uncle  Sir  Thomas  seems  to  have  ridden  hard,  and  must  need 
some  refreshment  after  his  hasty  journey.  That  obtained,  he 
can  accompany  us  to  Enfield. ' ' 

"  He  cannot  go  with  us,"  cried  Hertford,  forgetting  him- 
self in  the  heat  of  the  moment. 

"How?"  exclaimed  Edward,  a  frown  crossing  over  his 
face,  and  giving  him  a  slight  look  of  his  father.  Without 
another  word  he  then  turned  to  Sir  Thomas,  and  said, 
"Prithee,  make  haste,  gentle  uncle.  Get  what  you  lack, 
and  then  prepare  to  ride  with  us  to  Enfield. ' ' 

"All  thanks  to  your  Majesty,  but  I  want  nothing,"  rejoined 
Seymour.      "  I  am  ready  to  set  forth  with  you  at  once." 

The  Princess  Elizabeth,  who  had  been  standing  a  little 
apart  with  Sir  Anthony  Brown,  and  who  appeared  highly 
pleased  with  her  royal  brother's  assumption  of  authority,  here 
clapped  her  hands  for  an  attendant,  and  commanded  a  cup 
of  wine  for  Sir  Thomas  Seymour. 


Chap.  //]  EDIVARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  87 

*  *  I  will  not  refuse  this, ' '  said  Seymour,  when  the  wine 
was  brought.  '*  May  your  Majesty  reign  long  and  prosper- 
ously ! "  he  added,  raising  the  goblet  to  his  lips. 

Having  bidden  adieu  to  his  preceptors,  and  taken  a  tender 
leave  of  his  sister,  telling  her  to  be  of  good  cheer,  and  assur- 
ing her  that  their  separation  should  not  be  long,  Edward  then 
informed  the  Earl  of  Hertford  that  he  was  ready  to  set  forth, 
who  thereupon  ceremoniously  conducted  him  to  the  door. 
They  were  followed  by  Sir  Anthony  Brown  and  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  the  latter  of  whom  lingered  for  a  moment  to  whis- 
per a  few  words  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth. 

Horses  and  escort  were  in  readiness  outside ;  and  thus  the 
youthful  king,  accompanied  by  both  his  uncles,  rode  to  En- 
field, where  he  rested  that  night. 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  KING  EDIVARD  THE  SIXTH  IVAS  PROCLAIMED  AT 
WESTMINSTER;  HOW  HE  RODE  FROM  ENFIELD  TO  THE 
TOWER  OF  LONDON;  AND  HOW  THE  KEYS  OF  THE 
TOWER  WERE  DELIVERED  TO  HIM  BY  THE  CONSTABLE 

Next  morning,  Henry's  demise  was  published  abroad,  and 
as  soon  as  the  news,  which  spread  like  wildfire,  became  gen- 
erally known,  an  immense  crowd  collected  before  the  palace 
of  Westminster,  where  barriers  were  erected,  and  other  pre- 
parations made,  for  proclaiming  his  youthful  successor. 

A  hard  frost  prevailed,  and  the  day  was  clear  and  bright, 
though  extremely  cold.  The  general  aspect  of  the  crowd  was 
anything  but  sorrowful,  and  few  regrets  were  expressed  for  the 
departed  monarch,  though  Henry  had  been  by  no  means  un- 
popular with  the  middle  and  lower  ranks  of  his  subjects,  who 
approved  of  his  severity  so  long  as  it  did  not  touch  themselves, 


88  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  701VER.  {Book  I 

but  was  merely  exercised  against  the  nobility.  They  did  not, 
however,  like  his  "Whip  with  Six  Lashes,"  as  the  terrible 
statute  of  the  Six  Articles  was  commonly  designated,  for  it 
cut  right  and  left,  and  might  hit  any  of  them.  All  were  glad 
he  was  gone,  and  many  a  remark  was  boldly  uttered  which 
would  have  caused  the  speaker  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
Marshalsea  or  the  Fleet  in  the  king's  lifetime.  Most  of  the 
women — and  there  were  plenty  of  them  amidst  the  throng — 
loaded  his  memory  with  opprobrium  on  account  of  his  treat- 
ment of  his  spouses ;  but  their  husbands  jestingly  retorted 
that  he  had  therein  showed  his  wisdom,  since  the  readiest  way 
of  getting  rid  of  a  troublesome  wife  was  to  cut  off  her  head. 

But  by  far  the  most  audacious  speech  was  uttered  by  a  tall, 
gaunt  monk  in  the  habit  of  a  Franciscan  friar,  who,  mounting 
a  flight  of  steps,  thus  harangued  the  crowd  in  a  loud  voi<!e  : 
**  Know  ye  me  not,  good  folk?  "  he  said.  ''  I  am  that  priest 
who  preached  before  the  king,  now  lying  dead  in  yonder 
palace.  I  am  that  Father  Peto  who  preached  before  King 
Henry  in  his  chapel  at  Greenwich,  and  who  told  him  to  his 
face  that  heavy  judgments  would  come  upon  him  for  his  sinful 
doings — I  am  he  who  fearlessly  told  the  king  that  many  lying 
prophets  had  deceived  him,  but  that  I,  as  a  true  Micaiah, 
warned  him  that  the  dogs  should  lick  his  blood,  even  as  they 
had  licked  the  blood  of  Ahab.  For  the  which  prophetic 
words  I  was  condemned  as  a  rebel,  a  slanderer,  a  dog,  and  a 
traitor.  Nevertheless,  my  words  shall  come  to  pass.  Henry, 
the  Ahab  of  England,  is  dead,  and  dogs  will  lick  his  blood. ' ' 

Awe-stricken  and  astounded  at  the  boldness  of  the  Fran- 
ciscan, many  of  the  crowd  looked  round,  expecting  a  pur- 
suivant to  ride  up  and  arrest  him.  But  the  officers  chanced 
to  be  otherwise  engaged  at  the  moment,  and  Father  Peto, 
slowly  descending  from  the  steps,  mingled  with  the  throng, 
and  was  soon  lost  to  view.  The  incident,  however,  produced 
a  deep  impression  upon  the  assemblage,  and  the  monk's  words 
were  long  afterwards  remembered. 


Chap,  II}  EDiVARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  89 

Meanwhile  a  lofty  stage  had  been  reared  within  the  barriers 
in  front  of  the  palace.  The  throng  was  kept  back,  and  order 
preserved,  by  porters  of  the  royal  household,  who  made  good 
use  of  their  staves  upon  the  costards  of  such  as  pressed  for- 
ward too  rudely,  by  tall  yeomen  of  the  guard,  having  the 
king's  cognizance  worked  in  gold  on  their  breasts,  and  hal- 
berds in  their  hands,  and  by  mounted  pursuivants  of  arms,  who 
rode  constantly  from  point  to  point.  Around  the  stage,  upon 
the  ground,  was  drawn  up  a  bevy  of  trumpeters  in  embroidered 
coats,  and  with  silken  banners  on  their  trumpets.  All  being, 
at  last,  in  readiness,  five  heralds  in  coats  of  arms  mounted 
the  platform,  and  stationed  themselves  upon  it,  awaiting  the 
lords  coming  forth  from  the  Parliament  House ;  and  when  this 
occurred,  one  of  the  trumpets  blew  thrice,  making  the  palace 
walls  echo  with  the  shrill  blasts.  Then  there  was  a  deep  silence 
throughout  the  hitherto  noisy  multitude,  in  the  midst  of  which 
Somerset  herald  stepped  forward,  and  in  a  loud  voice  made 
proclamation  in  the  following  terms :  **  Edward  the  Sixth,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  King  of  England,  France  and  Ireland,  De- 
fender of  the  Faith,  and  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  also 
Ireland,  in  earth  Supreme  Head,  greeting, — Whereas  it  hath 
pleased  Almighty  God  on  Friday  last  to  call  to  his  infinite 
mercy  the  most  excellent  high  and  mighty  Prince  Henry,  of 
most  noble  and  famous  memory,  our  most  dear  and  entirely 
beloved  father,  whose  soul  God  pardon  ! — '  * 

Thereupon  the  herald  stopped,  and  immediately  the  whole 
band  of  trumpets  blew  a  loud  and  courageous  blast,  stirring 
up  every  bosom.  When  this  ceased,  Garter  advanced,  and, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  cried  out,  **  God  save  our  noble  King 
Eldward  I'*  upon  which  a  tremendous  shout  rent  the  air. 
Many  a  fervent  ejaculation  was  uttered  for  the  young  king's 
prosperity;  but  some  old  folk  who  had  the  reputation  of 
wisdom,  shook  their  heads,  and  said,  bodingly,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  "  Woe  to  the  country  whose  king  is  a 
child!" 


90  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

In  the  midst  of  these  various  expressions  of  sentiment,  while 
some  were  full  of  joyful  anticipations,  and  others,  though  very 
few  in  comparison  with  the  rest,  indulged  in  gloomy  fore- 
bodings, while  the  lords,  who  had  tarried  for  the  proclama- 
tion, were  moving  away,  and  the  heralds  descending  from  the 
stage,  a  distant  roar  of  ordnance  was  heard  from  the  east,  and 
a  cry  arose  that  the  young  king  was  going  to  the  Tower ; 
upon  which  the  assemblage  began  to  disperse,  and  a  large 
portion  moved  off  in  the  direction  of  the  old  fortress,  such  as 
could  afford  it  taking  boat  at  Westminster  and  going  down 
the  river  to  London  Bridge,  but  the  majority  marching  past 
the  fair  cross  of  Charing,  erected  by  Edward  I.  to  his  queen, 
Eleanor,  and  along  the  Strand,  to  the  City.  Many  of  the 
lords  entered  the  barges  at  the  privy-stairs,  near  the  palace, 
while  others,  anxious  to  make  greater  display,  rode  through 
the  streets  to  the  Tower,  attended  by  large  retinues  of  ser- 
vants. The  river  was  alive  with  craft  of  all  sorts  and  sizes, 
from  the  stately  and  gilded  barge,  propelled  by  two  ranks  of 
rowers,  to  the  small  but  crowded  wherry.  But  it  was  below 
bridge,  and  near  the  Tower,  that  the  greatest  stir  and  excite- 
ment prevailed.  Here  the  river  was  thronged,  and  much 
difficulty  was  experienced  by  the  smaller  barks  either  in  re- 
maining stationary  or  in  approaching  the  landing-places.  All 
the  barges,  balingers,  pinnaces,  caravels,  and  great  ships 
moored  off  the  Tower,  many  of  which  had  painted  and  gilded 
masts,  were  decorated  with  flags  and  streamers.  Amongst  the 
larger  vessels  were  the  Mary  Rose  and  the  famous  Harry 
Grace  a  DieUy  the  latter  standing  out  of  the  water  like  a  cas- 
tle, with  two  towers  at  the  stern.  No  sooner  did  the  ord- 
nance of  the  fortress  announce  the  approach  of  the  young  king, 
than  all  of  these  ships  replied  with  their  heavy  guns,  which 
they  then  carried  on  the  upper  deck  only,  the  sides  of  the  ves- 
sels not  being  pierced.  By  these  discharges,  the  tall  ships. 
Traitors'  Gate  and  the  dominant  White  Tower  itself,  above 
which  floated  the  royal  standard,  were  shrouded  in  smoke. 


Chap.  //]  EDU^ARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  91 

Simultaneously  with  the  proclamation  of  the  new  king  at 
Westminster,  a  like  announcement  had  been  made  by  sound 
of  trumpet  in  the  City  of  London,  under  the  authority  of  a 
sealed  commission,  by  four  heralds  in  their  coats  of  arms — 
namely,  Clarencieux,  Carlisle,  Windsor,  and  Chester — assisted 
by  the  lord  mayor,  the  aldermen,  and  the  sheriffs  in  their 
scarlet  robes.  Not  a  single  dissentient  voice  was  heard,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  the  proclamation  was  received  with  immense 
cheering. 

On  the  same  day,  about  noon,  the  youthful  prince,  on  whom 
the  crown  had  devolved,  set  forth  from  the  palace  of  Enfield 
for  the  Tower,  accompanied  by  his  two  uncles,  by  his  master 
of  horse,  and  a  large  party  of  noblemen,  knights,  pensioners, 
esquires,  and  others,  all  very  richly  attired,  and  making  an 
extremely  gallant  show.  From  his  youth  and  beauty,  Edward 
excited  the  admiration  of  all  who  beheld  him.  He  was  arrayed 
in  a  gown  of  cloth  of  silver,  embroidered  with  damask  gold, 
and  wore  a  doublet  of  white  velvet,  wrought  with  Venice  sil- 
ver, garnished  with  rubies  and  diamonds.  His  velvet  cap, 
with  a  white  feather  in  it,  was  ornamented  with  a  brooch  of 
diamonds ;  his  girdle  was  worked  with  Venice  silver,  and 
decked  with  precious  stones  and  knots  of  pearls,  and  his  bus- 
kins were  of  white  velvet.  His  milk-white  charger,  a  noble- 
looking  but  easy-paced  animal,  was  caparisoned  in  crimson 
satin,  embroidered  with  pearls  and  damask  gold,  and  the 
bridle  had  wide  reins  of  red  leather.  For  his  years,  Edward 
rode  remarkably  well,  maintaining  his  seat  with  much  grace, 
and  promising  in  time  to  become  a  consummate  horseman, 
like  his  uncle  Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  By  the  young  king's 
express  command,  in  contravention  of  the  Earl  of  Hertford's 
arrangements,  his  favorite  uncle  rode  close  behind  him,  and 
was  not  unfrequently  called  forward  to  his  royal  nephew's 
side.  Mounted  on  a  fiery  Arabian  courser,  black  as  jet,  but 
whose  movements  he  controlled  apparently  by  his  will,  mag- 
nificently attired,  as  his  wont,  in  embroidered  velvet  cassock 


92  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOILER  [Book  I 

and  silken  doublet,  by  the  stateliness  of  his  person  and  the 
haughtiness  of  his  bearing,  Seymour  threw  into  shade  all  the 
other  nobles  composing  the  king's  train,  and  drew  all  eyes 
upon  himself,  after  Edward  had  been  gazed  upon.  Elated  by 
his  royal  nephew's  notice,  his  breast  swelled  with  secret  aspi- 
rations, and  he  listened  to  the  promptings  of  his  towering  and 
insane  ambition.  Whenever  he  encountered  the  stem  looks 
of  his  brother,  he  replied  by  a  glance  of  fierce  defiance. 

In  this  way,  the  royal  cavalcade  passed  through  Tottenham, 
where  a  large  assemblage  was  collected,  and  where  numerous 
clerks  and  priests  were  stationed  near  the  High  Cross,  bearing 
censers,  with  which  they  censed  the  young  king  as  he  rode  by. 
Other  villages  succeeded,  and  brought  fresh  crowds,  fresh 
greetings,  more  priests,  and  more  censing.  Fortunately,  as 
we  have  already  mentioned,  the  day  was  extremely  fine, 
so  the  procession  lost  none  of  its  effect. 

Ere  long,  the  ancient,  and  at  that  time  most  picturesque 
City  of  London  came  fully  in  view,  protected  by  its  grey 
walls,  only  to  be  entered  through  its  gates,  and  remarkable  for 
its  many  churches,  amidst  which  the  lofty  spire  of  old  Saint 
Paul's  was  proudly  conspicuous.  Joyously  were  the  bells 
ringing  in  all  these  churches;  but  deepest  and  loudest  in 
tone,  and  plainly  distinguished  above  the  rest,  were  the  great 
bells  of  the  cathedral.  Bombards,  falconets,  and  sakers  were 
likewise  discharged  from  the  city  walls  and  gates„  Greatly 
pleased  by  these  sounds,  the  youthful  monarch  smiled  gra- 
ciously, as  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  told  him  it  was  evident  that 
his  loyal  subjects,  the  good  citizens  of  London,  meant  to  give 
him  a  hearty  welcome. 

Crossing  Finsbury  fields,  the  cavalcade  entered  the  city  by 
Bishopsgate.  There  a  short  pause  occurred,  the  young  king 
being  met  by  the  lord  mayor — ^hight  Henry  Hubblethome — 
and  the  civic  authorities,  and  being  obliged  to  listen  to  an 
oration,  to  which  he  replied.  Acclamations  greeted  him  on 
all  hands  as  he  rode  slowly  through  Bishopsgate -street  Within, 


Chap.  //]  EDIVARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  93 

and  blessings  were  showered  upon  his  head.  Not  perhaps 
expecting  so  much  enthusiasm,  or  at  all  events  unaccustomed 
to  such  a  display  of  it  towards  himself,  the  young  sovereign 
was  much  moved;  but  he  nevertheless  acknowledged  the 
hearty  reception  given  him  with  infinite  grace,  bowing  re- 
peatedly right  and  left.  His  youth  and  gentle  deportment 
won  every  heart,  and  all  hoped  that  a  prince  so  gracious  and 
full  of  promise  might  meet  with  good  counsellors.  Time  had 
not  allowed  much  preparation  to  be  made  for  the  young  king's 
passage  through  the  city,  but  several  of  the  houses  were  gaily 
hung  with  pieces  of  tapestry  and  cloths  of  gold  and  silver,  while 
embroidered  cushions  were  set  in  the  windows,  from  which 
comely  citizens'  wives  and  their  blooming  daughters  looked 
down  upon  the  fair  young  king,  and  on  his  handsome  uncle. 

Near  the  church  at  the  top  of  Gracechurch  Street,  Edward 
was  met  by  a  solemn  procession  from  Saint  Paul's,  consisting 
of  a  number  of  persons  carrying  silver  crosses,  the  priests  and 
choir  of  the  cathedral  in  their  vestments  and  robes,  followed 
by  several  of  the  city  companies  in  their  liveries. 

As  the  royal  cavalcade  proceeded  along  Fenchurch  Street, 
the  popular  enthusiasm  increased,  until  the  clamor  became 
almost  deafening,  and  the  crowd  pressed  so  much  upon  the 
young  monarch,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  he  could  move 
on.  However,  the  kindly  tone  in  which  he  besought  those 
nearest  him  to  stand  back,  opened  a  way  for  him  almost 
as  readily  as  the  halberds  of  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  could 
clear  it.  The  Earl  of  Hertford,  who  ever  courted  popular 
applause,  smiled  upon  the  crowd  in  vain.  Attention  was 
exclusively  directed  to  the  new  king,  and  to  the  splendid- 
looking  personage  who  immediately  followed  him;  and  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  two  was  most  admired, 
though  doubtless  far  the  greater  amount  of  interest  attached  to 
Edward.  But  Hertford  had  the  mortification  of  finding  him- 
self completely  overlooked  at  a  moment  when  he  especially 
desired  to  be  an  object  of  attention. 


94  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

Amid  these  manifestations  of  general  enthusiasm  and  delight, 
which  could  not  fail  to  be  gratifying  to  him,  Edward  reached 
Tower  Hill,  where  the  populace  was  kept  within  due  limits  by 
a  strong  detachment  of  the  mounted  city  guard.  Here  the 
ancient  palace -fortress  of  his  predecessors,  wherein  his  august 
father  had  commenced  his  reign,  and  wherein  he  himself  was 
about  to  keep  his  court  for  a  while  and  hold  his  councils,  burst 
upon  his  youthful  gaze.  No  sooner  was  the  young  king  dis- 
cerned by  those  upon  the  watch  for  his  coming,  than  from  the 
summit  of  the  White  Tower  burst  forth  a  thundering  welcome. 
The  ordnance  on  the  wharf  before  the  fortress,  on  Traitors' 
Gate,  on  the  By-ward  Tower,  on  the  barbican  and  the  bas- 
tions, followed,  and  the  roar  was  prolonged  by  the  guns  of  the 
ships  moored  close  at  hand  in  the  river. 

**  There  spoke  old  Harry  Grace  a  Dieu  /  "  cried  Seymour. 
*'  I  know  his  tremendous  tones  well  enough." 

*"Tis  the  first  time  I  have  heard  those  guns,"  observed 
Edward.     **  In  sooth,  they  have  a  terrible  sound." 

*' Your  enemies  think  so,  sire,"  rejoined  Sir  Thomas,  with 
a  laugh.  '*  Few  who  withstood  the  shot  of  those  guns  would 
care  to  hear  them  again.  But  you  will  have  more  of  it  pres- 
ently. The  cannoniers  I  see  are  once  more  ready  on  the  White 
Tower.  Heaven  grant  your  Highness  be  not  deafened  by  the 
din!" 

'*Nay,  I  like  it,  gentle  uncle,"  replied  the  young  king, 
with  boyish  delight. 

As  he  spoke,  the  ordnance  from  the  Tower  belched  forth 
again ;  the  roar  being  continued  by  the  guns  of  the  various 
ships,  and  closed  by  the  deep-voiced  cannon  of  the  great 
Harry. 

"  *Tis  a  grand  sound  !"  exclaimed  Edward,  with  a  glowing 
countenance.     ''  I  should  like  to  witness  a  siege,  uncle." 

**  Perchance  your  highness  may  have  your  wish,"  replied 
Seymour.  "The  French  are  like  to  give  us  somewhat  to  do 
at  Calais  and  BouUoign,  ere  long ;  and  if  they  fail,  the  Scots 


Chap.  Ill  EDIVARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  95 

are  certain  to  find  us  employment.  Your  Grace  must  visit 
Berwick.  But  here  comes  the  Constable  of  the  Tower  to 
conduct  you  to  the  fortress. ' ' 

As  the  second  roar  of  ordnance  died  away,  Sir  John  Gage, 
mounted  upon  a  powerful  sorrel  charger,  very  richly  capari- 
soned, issued  forth  from  the  Bulwark  Gate.  He  was  closely 
followed  by  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  Sir  John  Mark- 
ham,  two  esquires,  likewise  on  horseback,  and  by  a  long  train 
on  foot,  headed  by  the  chaplain  of  the  Tower  in  his  surplice, 
attended  by  the  verger  bearing  the  cross,  and  consisting  of 
the  chief  porter,  the  gentleman-jailer,  and  other  officers,  with 
forty  yeomen  of  the  guard,  armed  with  halberds,  and  clad  in 
their  scarlet  liveries,  with  the  Rose  and  Crown  embroidered 
upon  the  back — the  latter  walking  two  and  two. 

When  within  a  short  distance  of  the  youthful  sovereign. 
Sir  John  dismounted,  and  committing  his  charger  to  an  es- 
quire, bent  the  knee  before  Edward,  and  welcomed  him  to 
the  Tower.  The  lieutenant  followed  the  example  of  his  su- 
perior, after  which  the  chaplain  pronounced  a  solemn  bene- 
diction. This  done,  the  constable  and  lieutenant  remounted 
their  steeds ;  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  and  the  others  wheeled 
round,  and  returned  as  they  had  come,  while  Sir  John  Gage 
preceded  the  young  monarch  to  the  fortress. 

On  the  stone  bridge,  built  across  the  moat  between  the 
barbican  and  the  By-ward  Tower,  were  collected  all  the  illus- 
trious persons  constituting  the  upper  and  lower  councils  ap- 
pointed by  the  late  king's  will,  except  such  as  were  actually 
in  attendance  at  the  moment.  Chief  amongst  them  were  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  and  the 
Lord  Chancellor ;  the  two  former  being  in  full  ecclesiastical 
costume,  and  the  latter  in  his  robes  of  office,  with  the  collar 
of  the  Garter  round  his  shoulders.  Instead  of  sharing  in  the 
general  animation,  Wriothesley  looked  on  with  lowering 
brows,  and  to  judge  from  the  sternness  of  his  visage  and  the 
coldness  of  his  manner  towards  his  companions,  he  meditated 


96  THE  CONSTyiBLE   OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book. 

some  hostile  course  against  them.  In  the  next  rank  were  the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  the  venerable  Lord  Russell,  the  Earl  of  Es- 
sex, brother  to  Queen  Catherine  Parr,  and  the  Lords  St.  John 
and  Lisle.  Most  of  these  wore  the  Garter,  and  Lord  Lisle  was 
attired  with  extraordinary  splendor.  Behind  them  were  the 
three  judges  in  their  robes,  Montague,  North,  and  Bromley. 
The  rest  of  the  brilliant  assemblage  consisted  of  Sir  William 
Paget,  chief  secretary  of  state ;  Sir  Anthony  Denny  and  Sir 
William  Herbert,  chief  gentlemen  of  the  privy  chamber; 
the  vice-chamberlain,  the  treasurer,  and  several  others.  Yeo- 
men of  the  guard  bearing  halberds,  trumpeters  sounding  loud 
flourishes,  bearers  of  standards,  banners,  and  pennons,  her- 
alds in  coats  of  arms,  pursuivants  of  arms  and  marshals  of 
arms  with  maces,  came  first,  and  the  members  of  the  council 
drew  back  on  either  side  to  allow  them  passage. 

Next  came  the  Constable  of  the  Tower,  compelling  his 
charger  to  move  backwards  along  the  whole  length  of  the 
bridge,  until  he  brought  him  under  the  vaulted  archway  of 
the  By -ward  Tower,  where  horse  and  rider  remained  motion- 
less as  an  equestrian  statue.  While  this  feat  was  performed 
with  so  much  address  that  no  disturbance  was  caused  to  the 
bystanders,  amid  loud  cheers  from  the  beholders  gathered  on 
the  walls  and  towers  of  the  fortress,  the  king  rode  upon  the 
bridge,  and  had  got  about  half  way  across  it,  when  the  lords 
of  the  council,  headed  by  Cranmer,  advanced  to  pay  him 
homage.  A  short  address,  concluding  with  a  benediction, 
was  pronounced  by  the  primate,  during  which  all  the  others, 
except  Tunstal,  knelt  down.  The  blessing  over,  the  kneel- 
ing lords  arose,  and  exclaimed  with  one  voice,  **Vive  le 
noble  roi  Edouard  ! ' '  And  the  same  cry  was  repeated  with 
the  utmost  enthusiasm  by  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  who  was  close 
behind  his  royal  nephew,  by  the  Earl  of  Hertford,  Sir  An- 
thony Brown,  and  all  upon  the  bridge. 

Edward  thanked  them,  in  his  clear  musical  voice,  for  these 
demonstrations  of  their  loyalty  and  attachment.     Then  fol- 


Chap.  //]  EDIVARD  PROCLAIMED  KING  97 

lowed  the  ceremonial  of  the  delivery  of  the  keys  of  the  Tower, 
which  was  thus  accomplished.  Attended  by  the  chief  porter 
bearing  the  keys  on  an  embroidered  cushion,  the  Constable  of 
the  Tower  rode  forth  from  beneath  the  gateway,  and  ap- 
proached the  king — the  lords  of  the  council  drawing  back  on 
either  side.  The  bearer  of  the  keys  then  knelt  down  and 
proffered  them  to  his  Majesty,  who  graciously  thanked  him, 
but  desired  they  might  remain  in  the  custody  of  his  right 
trusty  and  well -beloved  cousin  and  councillor.  Sir  John  Gage, 
seeing  they  could  be  in  no  better  hands.  Thereupon,  the  con- 
stable bowed  to  the  saddle-bow,  and,  without  more  ado, 
backed  his  charger  through  the  Tower  gates,  which  were  flung 
wide  open,  and  so  into  the  lower  ward ;  the  lords  of  the  coun- 
cil forming  themselves  into  a  procession,  and  following  as 
Gage  retreated,  and  the  king  and  his  retinue  slowly  advan- 
cing, amid  the  reiterated  acclamations  of  the  beholders,  so 
that  after  a  while  all  had  entered  the  fortress. 

A  striking  sight  greeted  the  young  monarch  as  he  passed 
through  the  gates.  From  the  By -ward  Tower  to  the  Bloody 
Tower,  the  whole  of  the  lower  ward  was  filled  with  archers  and 
arquebusiers  of  the  royal  guard  in  their  full  accoutrements, 
drawn  up  in  two  lines — the  archers  on  the  right,  and  the 
arquebusiers  on  the  left. 

All  these  were  picked  men,  of  very  tall  stature,  and  their 
morions,  breastplates,  and  tassettes  were  well  burnished. 
Captains  and  other  officers  of  the  guard,  distinguishable  from 
their  splendid  equipments,  were  stationed  at  intervals.  The 
sight  of  these  stalwart  fellows,  who  had  been  his  father's  guard 
in  ordinary,  and  had  attended  the  late  king  to  France,  as  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour  informed  Edward,  delighted  the  youthful 
sovereign.  He  had  much  military  ardor  in  his  composition, 
and  might  have  displayed  it  in  action,  if  circumstances  had 
permitted.  As  it  was,  the  veterans  upon  whom  he  now 
admiringly  smiled  as  he  rode  past  them,  occasionally  ex- 
pressing a  word  of  commendation  that  sank  deep  into  the 
1 


98  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOfVER  [Book  I 

heart  of  him  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  predicted  that  he 
would  become  a  hero. 

Thus  making  his  way,  he  passed  through  the  gloomy  gate- 
way of  the  Bloody  Tower,  glancing  at  the  iron  teeth  of  the 
huge  portcullis  by  which  it  was  defended,  and,  mounting  the 
hill,  turned  off  on  the  right  and  entered  a  court,  at  that  time 
existing  between  the  White  Tower  and  the  palace,  and  which 
was  now  densely  filled  by  the  various  personages  composing 
the  procession.  Here  alighting,  he  was  ceremoniously  ushered 
into  the  palace. 


CHAPTER  Iir 


HOW  THE  EARL  OF  HERTFORD  WAS  MADE  LORD  PRO- 
TECTOR OF  THE  REALM,  AND  GOVERNOR  OF  THE  KING'S 
PERSON  DURING  HIS  NONAGE 

Shortly  after  Edward's  arrival  at  the  Tower,  and  while  the 
young  monarch  was  preparing  to  receive  all  the  lords,  spirit- 
ual and  temporal,  who  had  flocked  thither  to  swear  allegiance 
to  him,  a  conference  took  place  in  the  lesser  council  chamber 
of  the  White  Tower — now  used  as  a  depository  for  state 
papers  and  records, — to  which  none  but  members  of  the 
upper  and  lower  councils  were  admitted.  The  lower  council 
could  not  vote,  but  they  were  allowed  to  assist  at  the  deliber- 
ation. At  the  opening  of  the  meeting,  a  resolution  was 
moved  by  the  Lord  Chancellor,  who  had  his  own  motives  for 
making  the  proposition,  that  they  should  all  solemnly  swear 
to  maintain  inviolate  every  part  and  article  of  the  last  will  and 
testament  of  their  late  sovereign  lord  and  master.  This  mo- 
tion, though  displeasing  to  some,  could  not  be  opposed,  and 
the  oath  was  administered  accordingly. 

**The  oath  has  been  taken,"  muttered  Wriothesley,  glanc* 


Chap.  IW]     HERTFORD  MADE  LORD  PROTECTOR  99 

ing  at  Hertford.  "We  shall  now  see  who  will  attempt  to 
break  it." 

He  had  not  to  wait  long,  for  Sir  William  Paget,  chief  se- 
cretary of  state,  and  Hertford's  principal  associate,  rose  from 
his  seat,  and  craving  their  attention,  said : 

'  *  Before  we  proceed  further,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  I 
may  remark  that  it  will  be  highly  embarrassing  to  the  people, 
and  especially  to  foreign  ambassadors,  if  they  are  compelled 
to  address  themselves  on  every  occasion  to  sixteen  persons,  all 
of  them  clothed  with  the  same  authority.  I  therefore  pro- 
pose to  you,  as  a  preliminary  measure,  that  we  select  from  our 
number  the  worthiest  and  fittest  amongst  us  to  be  chief  and 
president,  conferring  upon  him  the  title  of  Lord  Protector 
of  the  Realm.  By  such  means  there  will  be  infinitely  speedier 
despatch  of  business,  while  no  change  whatever  can  take 
place  in  the  established  form  of  government,  inasmuch  as  an 
express  condition  shall  be  annexed  to  the  dignity,  that  the 
Lord  Protector  shall  do  no  act  without  the  concurrence  of  the 
entire  body  of  the  council.** 

"Your  motion  cannot  be  entertained,  good  master  secre- 
tary,** cried  the  Lord  Chancellor,  rising,  and  speaking  with 
much  warmth.  "It  is  in  direct  contradiction  of  the  late 
king's  will,  which  you  have  just  sworn  to  uphold,  and  which 
you  cannot  infringe  in  any  particular  without  unfaithfulness  to 
your  trust.  We  will  have  no  chief,  president,  or  Lord  Pro- 
tector. No  such  appointment  was  contemplated  by  our  late 
royal  master.  I  defy  you  to  show  it.  Equal  authority  was 
given  by  him  to  us  all,  and  I  refuse  to  transfer  any  portion  of 
mine  to  another  executor,  be  he  whom  he  may.**  And  he 
glanced  menacingly  at  Hertford,  who,  however,  seemed  per- 
fectly easy  as  to  the  result. 

"  But  if  our  choice  should  fall  on  you,  my  lord,  would  your 
objections  to  the  step  be  equally  strong  ? '  *  said  Sir  Richard 
Rich,  another  of  Hertford's  partisans,  rising. 

"Ay,  marry  would  they  !"  rejoined  Wriothesley.     "  I  wot 


lOO  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  I 

well  you  have  no  thought  of  choosing  me,  Sir  Richard ;  but 
if  you  had,  you  could  not  lawfully  do  it,  neither  would  I  ac- 
cept the  office  of  Lord  Protector  if  offered  me,  knowing  it  to 
be  contrary  to  the  intentions  of  our  late  sovereign  lord  and 
master  that  any  one  of  us  should  have  higher  powers  than  his 
fellows.  You  must  take  the  will  as  it  is — not  as  you  would 
have  it.** 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  propose  aught  contrary  to  the  true 
intent  and  meaning  of  our  lamented  master's  testamentary 
injunction,"  said  Paget;  "but  despatch  of  business  and  the 
convenience  of  the  government  generally  require  that  we 
should  have  a  head.  Otherwise,  there  will  be  nothing  but 
perplexity  and  confusion.  Moreover,  since  the  Lord  Protector 
will  in  reality  have  no  power  except  such  as  is  derived  from  us 
all,  I  can  see  no  harm  in  the  appointment — ^but  much  good. 
I  therefore  claim  your  voices  for  his  Majesty's  elder  uncle,  the 
Earl  of  Hertford,  whom  I  look  upon  as  the  fittest  person  to  be 
our  chief  If  you  consult  your  own  dignity,  you  will  grace 
him  with  the  title  of  Lord  Protector,  and  as  he  is  nearest  in 
relationship  to  the  king  that  now  is,  and  must  have  his  Ma- 
jesty's interest  at  heart  more  than  any  other,  you  cannot  do 
better  than  appoint  him  governor  of  the  king's  person  during 
his  nonage. '  * 

*'It  cannot  be  done,  I  say,"  cried  Wriothesley,  stamping 
furiously  on  the  ground.  **  I  will  never  agree  to  it — ^and,  at 
least,  the  election  must  be  unanimous. ' ' 

"  Not  so,  my  lord.  A  plurality  of  voices  will  suffice,"  re- 
joined Paget. 

*'Be  calm,  I  entreat  you,  my  lord,"  said  Sir  Anthony 
Brown,  in  a  low  voice,  to  the  Lord  Chancellor.  *'  Your  op- 
position will  avail  nothing,  but  your  adhesion  will  make  you 
Earl  of  Southampton." 

''Ha!  say  you  so?"  exclaimed  Wriothesley,  becoming 
suddenly  appeased,  and  sitting  down. 

**  Proceed  without  fear,"  whispered  Sir  Anthony  to  Paget. 


Chap.  ///]     HERTFORD  MADE  LORD  PROTECTOR  lol 

**  I  have  stopped  the  Lord  Chancellor's  mouth  with  an  earl- 
dom." 

*'  It  is  well,"  returned  the  other,  in  the  same  tone.  Then 
looking  round  the  assemblage,  he  added,  *'If  I  understand 
aright,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  you  all  agree  with  me  that 
it  is  meet  my  Lord  of  Hertford  be  appointed  President  of  the 
Council,  with  the  title  of  Lord  Protector  of  the  Realm,  and 
Governor  of  the  King's  Person  during  his  minority.  Be 
pleased  to  signify  your  assent  by  your  voices.** 

"Hold  yet  a  moment!"  interposed  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
again  rising.  ''Couple  with  your  proposal  the  condition 
that  the  Lord  Protector  shall  do  nothing  save  with  the  assent 
of  all  the  other  councillors.  On  that  understanding  I  am 
content  to  withdraw  my  opposition." 

"It  is  distinctly  so  understood,  my  lord,  and  I  thank  you 
for  your  adhesion,"  replied  Paget,  bowing.  "Are  all  the 
rest  agreed  ?  "  he  added. 

Upon  which  the  others  arose,  exclaiming  with  one  accord, 
"  that  no  one  was  so  fit  to  be  Lord  Protector  as  the  Eiarl 
of  Hertford,  and  that  they  were  well  content  with  the  appoint- 
ment." 

"1  meddle  not  with  secular  matters,"  observed  Cran- 
mer,  "  for  the  conduct  whereof  I  am  little  fitted.  But  feeling 
well  assured  that  the  affairs  of  the  government  will  be  managed 
with  wisdom  and  ability  by  my  Lord  of  Hertford  ;  and  feeling 
also  certain  that  no  efforts  on  his  part  will  be  spared  to  purge 
and  purify  the  Church,  and  establish  the  pure  doctrines  of 
Christianity,  I  have  given  my  voice  for  him." 

"I  have  concurred  in  my  Lord  of  Hertford's  appoint- 
ment,'* said  Tunstal,  "in  the  belief  that  it  is  essential  there 
should  be  a  head  to  the  government ;  and  in  the  firm  belief 
also  that  no  better  person  than  his  lordship  can  be  found  for 
the  office.  But  still  adhering,  as  I  do  to  the  old  religion, 
though  I  have  been  content,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  to  conform 
to  many  changes  wrought  in  it  by  our  late  sovereign  lord  and 


i 


I02  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

master,  I  am  strongly  adverse  to  any  further  Reformation,  as 
it  is  called,  and  I  shall  deeply  regret  the  vote  I  have  given  if 
I  find  the  Lord  Protector  take  advantage  of  the  power  just 
conferred  upon  him  to  push  for  fiirther  separation  from  the 
See  of  Rome,  and  to  widen  and  deepen  the  breaches  already 
unhappily  made  in  the  Church. ' ' 

**  No  fear  of  that,  my  Lord  of  Durham,"  said  Wriothesley ; 
**  the  cause  of  Rome  is  too  ably  supported  in  the  upper  council 
by  yourself,  by  my  Lords  of  Arundel  and  St.  John,  by  Sir 
Edward  Wotton,  Sir  Anthony  Brown,  and  Doctor  Nicholas 
Wotton ;  and  in  the  lower  council  by  Sir  John  Gage,  Sir 
William  Petre,  Sir  John  Baker,  and  Sir  Thomas  Cheyney. 
I  say  nothing  of  myself — ^but  you  may  count  on  all  my  zeal. 
We  will  resist — strenuously  resist — any  further  interference 
with  our  religion." 

**You  have  spoken  our  sentiments,  my  lord,"  said  Sir 
Anthony  Brown,  and  other  friends  of  the  old  belief.  "We 
are  disposed  to  make  up  the  breach  with  the  See  of  Rome,  not 
to  widen  it." 

"  Nay,  my  good  lords  and  gentlemen,  let  there  be  no  dis- 
agreement amongst  us, ' '  said  Hertford,  in  a  bland  and  con- 
ciliatory voice.  Then  bowing  around,  he  added,  *  'Accept,  I 
pray  you  all,  my  hearty  thanks  for  the  high  and  impor- 
tant offices  just  conferred  upon  me.  My  best  endeavors  shall 
be  used  to  satisfy  you  all.  I  shall  strive  to  reconcile  differ- 
ences, not  to  heighten  them ;  I  shall  be  moderate  and  tolerant, 
rather  than  over-zealous ;  and  I  cannot  far  err,  seeing  I  must 
be  guided  and  controlled  by  your  collective  opinions  and 
wisdom."  This  speech  producing  the  effect  desired  by  the 
new  Lord  Protector,  he  went  on.  "And  now,  my  lords  and 
gentlemen,  there  is  a  matter,  wherein  many  of  ye  are  con- 
cerned, to  which  I  would  direct  your  present  attention,  though 
the  full  accomplishment  thereof  must  necessarily  be  deferred 
to  another  time.  As  you  are  all  doubtless  aware,  there  is 
a  clause  in  the  late  king's  will  requiring  us,  his  executors,  to 


Chap,  III]     HERTFORD  MADE  LORD  PROTECTOR  103 

make  good  all  his  promises  of  any  sort  or  kind.  What  these 
promises  were  it  will  be  needful  to  ascertain  without  delay. 
As  a  means  thereto,  I  will  call  upon  one  who,  being  greatly 
trusted,  had  the  best  opportunities  of  knowing  his  Majesty's 
intentions,  to  declare.  I  address  myself  to  you.  Sir  William 
Paget,  and  require  you  to  state  explicitly  as  much  as  you  know 
of  the  late  king's  designs." 

* '  I  can  answer  your  inquiries  without  difficulty,  my  lord, '  * 
replied  the  chief  secretary,  "for  I  have  a  book  wherein  the 
king's  wishes  were  set  down  by  myself,  under  his  Majesty's 
direction,  by  whom,  as  ye  will  see,  the  memoranda  are  signed. 
Here  it  is,"  he  added,  exhibiting  the  book.  **  From  this  ye 
will  learn  the  honors  and  rewards  meant  to  be  conferred 
by  him  upon  his  faithful  servants.  Herein  ye  will  find  it 
written,  that  the  Earl  of  Hertford  shall  be  created  Lord 
High  Treasurer  and  Earl  Marshal,  with  the  title  of  Duke  of 
Somerset,  and  his  son  Earl  of  Hertford ;  in  support  of  which 
titles,  yearly  revenues  are  to  arise  to  the  duke  and  his  son  out 
of  the  next  bishop's  land  that  shall  fall  due." 

"That  may  be  Durham,"  observed  Tunstal.  "His 
Majesty  hath  shown  as  little  scruple  towards  us  of  the 
superior  clergy,  as  he  did  towards  the  monasteries. ' ' 

"  Nay,  I  trust  my  revenues  will  not  arise  from  your  diocese, 
my  lord,"  said  Hertford,  "  though  it  be  the  richest  and  most 
considerable  in  the  kingdom.  What  more,  good  master  sec- 
retary ? ' ' 

"  The  Earl  of  Essex  is  set  down  to  be  Marquis  of  North- 
ampton," pursued  Paget ;  "  the  Lord  Lisle  to  be  Earl  of  War- 
wick; the  Lord  Wriothesley  " — and  he  paused  to  glance  at 
the  lord  chancellor — "  to  be  Earl  of  Southampton ;  Sir  Rich- 
ard Rich  to  be  Baron  Rich ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  to  be 
Baron  Seymour  of  Sudley,  and  Lord  High  Admiral  of  Eng- 
land." 

The  latter  announcement  was  received  with  considerable 
applause,  especially  from  those  of  the  lower  council,  and  the 


I04  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

subject  of  it  was  warmly  congratulated  by  his  companions. 
Seymour,  however,  looked  discontented,  and  evidently  thought 
he  had  been  inadequately  rewarded.  One  person  only  in  the 
upper  council  took  umbrage  at  the  appointment.  This  was 
the  existing  Lord  High  Admiral,  Lord  Lisle. 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  he  cried,  angrily.  *'Am  I  to  be  deprived 
of  my  office  ? ' ' 

'*Only  to  have  something  better,'*  replied  the  Lord  Pro- 
tector. **  Resign  your  patent  in  my  brother's  favor,  and  I 
will  indemnify  you  with  the  post  of  Grand  Chamberlain,  which 
I  now  hold. ' ' 

'  *  I  am  quite  content  with  the  exchange,  my  lord, ' '  replied 
Lisle,  his  angry  looks  giving  way  to  smiles. 

"  What  of  Sir  John  Gage  ?  "  demanded  the  Lord  Protector. 
*'  Is  not  he  to  be  exalted  ?  " 

**  No  mention  is  made  of  him,'*  replied  Paget,  shaking  his 
head. 

*'I  rejoice  to  hear  it,"  resounded  the  deep  voice  of  the 
Constable  of  the  Tower,  from  the  lower  part  of  the  chamber. 

'*  Is  there  no  title  bestowed  on  yourself,  good  master  secre- 
tary ? ' '  inquired  the  Lord  Protector. 

"Your  lordship  will  see  when  you  look  over  the  book," 
replied  Paget. 

''Being  in  waiting  when  these  memoranda  were  made," 
observed  Sir  Anthony  Denny,  **I  told  his  Majesty  that  mas- 
ter secretary  remembered  all  but  himself,  whereupon  the  king 
desired  me  to  write  him  down  for  a  yearly  revenue,  as  appear- 
eth  in  the  book. ' ' 

*'  Revenues  were  granted  to  all  whom  the  king  designed  to 
honor,"  said  Paget,  **and  were  destined  to  spring  from  the 
forfeit  estates  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk ;  but  this  plan  has  been 
defeated  by  the  duke,  who,  as  ye  know,  prevailed  upon  his 
Majesty  to  settle  the  estates  on  his  son,  our  present  sov- 
ereign. Consequently,  the  revenues  must  be  derived  from 
other  sources. ' ' 


Chap,  jy^  KING  EDIVARD  KNIGHTED  105 

**A11  shall  be  ordered  in  due  time,"  rejoined  the  Lord  Pro- 
tector. **After  the  coronation  of  his  present  Majesty,  all  the 
creations  appointed  by  the  late  king  shall  be  made.  Until 
then,  those  who  are  most  interested  must  be  content  to  wait. 
And  now,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  let  us  to  the  king,  who 
by  this  time  must  have  entered  the  presence  chamber.  I 
pray  your  grace  to  come  with  me.'* 

This  he  addressed  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who, 
however,  held  back  to  let  him  pass  forth  first.  The  rest  of 
the  council,  of  both  degrees,  followed  them  out  of  the 
chamber. 


CHAPTER  IV 


HOW  THE  YOUTHFUL  KING  IV AS  KNIGHTED  BY  THE  LORD 
PROTECTOR;  AND  HOIV  THE  LORD  MAYOR  OF  LON- 
DON WAS  KNIGHTED  BY  THE  KING 

Young  Edward's  first  reception  was  held  in  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  White  Tower — a  vast  apartment  still  existing, 
and  which,  if  its  height  were  only  proportionate  to  its  length 
and  width,  would  almost  be  without  equal.  As  it  is,  the 
chamber  is  very  noble,  with  a  massive  timber  roof,  flat,  and 
of  immense  weight,  supported  by  double  ranges  of  stout  oak 
pillars.  Around  this  chamber  run  narrow  stone  galleries, 
arched  and  vaulted,  constructed  within  the  thickness  of  the 
walls,  and  having  large  semicircular  openings  for  the  admis- 
sion of  light. 

Fitted  up  as  it  was  for  the  grand  ceremonial  about  to  take 
place  within  it,  the  presence  chamber,  for  so  it  was  then 
styled,  looked  really  magnificent ;  neither  was  it  at  all  too 
large  for  the  accommodation  of  the  numerous  ecclesiastics  of 
the  highest  order,  nobles,  knights,  City  authorities — the  lord 


io6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

mayor,  aldermen,  and  sheriffs  to  wit — pensioners,  esquires, 
henchmen,  pages,  yeomen  of  the  guard,  marshals  of  arms,  pur- 
suivants, trumpeters,  and  others,  by  whom  it  was  thronged. 
So  over-crowded  was  it,  in  fact,  that  the  stone  galleries  pre- 
viously mentioned  were  filled. 

The  walls  were  hung  with  costly  tapestry,  and  the  pillars 
garnished  with  cloth  of  gold,  the  sides  of  the  chamber  and  the 
roof  being  thickly  set  with  banners  of  arms  and  descents,  to- 
gether with  bannerols  of  the  king's  dominions,  while  the  floor 
was  deeply  strewn  with  rushes. 

At  the  upper  end  there  was  a  cloth  of  estate,  beneath 
which,  upon  a  dais  with  three  steps,  sat  the  youthful  mon- 
arch ;  a  wide  open  space,  covered  with  a  carpet,  being  kept 
in  front  of  the  throne  by  silken  cords  drawn  from  side  to  side, 
at  the  entrance  to  which  space  stood  the  vice-chamberlain 
and  other  court  officials,  while  the  exit  was  guarded  by  gen- 
tlemen ushers. 

Within  these  privileged  precincts  only  two  persons  had  as 
yet  been  admitted — the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the 
newly-made  Lord  Protector.  In  his  quality  of  grand  cham- 
berlain, Hertford  stood  on  the  right  of  the  king,  bearing  the 
wand  of  office,  while  the  primate  occupied  a  place  on  the 
left. 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  excitement  to  the  young  king, 
whose  breast  was  filled  with  emotions  such  as  he  had  never 
before  experienced ;  but  though  much  agitated  internally,  he 
maintained  an  outward  appearance  of  composure,  and  per- 
formed the  new  and  difficult  part  he  was  required  to  enact  in 
a  manner  than  won  him  universal  admiration.  Once  or  twice 
he  glanced  at  his  uncle,  the  lord  protector,  somewhat  timidly, 
wishing  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  were  in  his  place,  but  Hertford's 
bland  and  courtier-like  manner  quickly  reassured  him.  Ed- 
ward's face  was  flushed,  and  his  eyes  unusually  brilliant,  for 
his  pulse  beat  fast ;  and  though  his  deportment  might  want 
the  majesty  that  years  alone  can  impart,  it  had  something  in- 


Chap,  /r]  KING  EDIVARD  KNIGHTED  107 

finitely  more  charming  in  the  almost  child-like  grace  of  the 
young  monarch,  and  in  the  sweetness  and  simplicity  of  his 
looks. 

The  queen -dowager,  who,  surrounded  by  her  ladies  of 
honor — the  Marchioness  of  Dorset,  the  Countess  of  Hertford, 
Lady  Herbert,  Lady  Tyrwhitt,  and  others — sat  beneath  a 
lesser  canopy  on  the  right  side  of  the  room,  regarded  him  with 
almost  maternal  pride  and  affection.  The  widowed  queen  had 
been  summoned  from  the  privacy  to  which  she  had  retired 
on  the  demise  of  her  royal  husband,  and  was  now  lodged 
within  the  Tower. 

All  needful  preliminaries  having  been  gone  through,  the 
whole  of  the  council,  headed  by  the  lord  chancellor,  entered 
the  reserved  space,  and  passing  one  by  one  before  Edward, 
who  arose  to  receive  them,  knelt  down,  kissed  the  youthful 
sovereign's  hand,  and  vowed  allegiance  to  him.  Such  a  cer- 
emony must  be  always  interesting,  but  it  was  never  perhaps 
more  interesting  than  on  the  present  occasion,  when  the  ex- 
treme youth  and  beauty  of  the  monarch  lent  it  a  peculiar 
charm. 

As  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  approached,  Edward,  who  had  not 
hitherto  spoken,  observed  with  a  smile  : 

**  You  have  already  vowed  fidelity  to  me,  gentle  uncle." 

'^Gramercy  for  the  reminder,  my  gracious  liege,"  replied 
Seymour.  * '  Yet  shall  not  that  vow,  which  I  will  most  relig- 
iously keep,  prevent  me  from  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance 
from  subject  to  sovereign."  And  kneeling  down,  he  went 
through  the  ceremony  like  the  others,  but  with  even  more 
fervor. 

The  whole  of  the  council  having  thus  sworn  fidelity  to  the 
king,  the  lord  chancellor  advanced,  and  making  a  profound 
obeisance  to  Edward,  informed  him,  in  a  voice  distinctly 
audible  throughout  the  whole  of  the  vast  and  crowded  cham- 
ber, that  they  had  unanimously  elected  the  Earl  of  Hertford 
to  be  lord  protector. 


io8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Boob  I 

"You  have  done  well,"  replied  Edward.  *' I  approve 
the  council's  choice.  But  you  have  more  to  say.  Proceed, 
my  lord. ' ' 

"  Considering  the  tender  years  of  your  Highness,'  *  rejoined 
Wriothesley,  **we  have  deemed  it  expedient  to  appoint  a 
governor  of  your  royal  person  during  your  nonage. '  * 

"  I  am  right  glad  of  it,"  said  Edward,  fixing  his  eye  upon 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour.     ''And  you  have  chosen '* 

*'As  your  Majesty  will  naturally  anticipate,  we  have  chosen 
the  Earl  of  Hertford  for  your  governor, ' '  replied  Wriothesley. 

*'How?"  exclaimed  Edward,  unable  to  conceal  his  dis- 
appointment.    *'  Marry,  this  is  not  what  I  expected  !" 

*'Does  not  our  choice  give  your  Highness  satisfaction?" 
inquired  the  lord  chancellor,  with  secret  malice.  "The 
Earl  of  Hertford  is  your  uncle.  * ' 

"But  I  have  another  uncle,"  cried  Edward,  with  much 
vivacity.     "  Marry,  you  should  have  chosen  him." 

"  By  my  life,  the  boy  is  his  father's  true  son,"  whispered 
Sir  John  Gage  to  Seymour;  "he  a//// have  you  for  gov- 
ernor. ' ' 

"He  will,  if  they  will  let  him  have  his  way,"  replied 
Sir  Thomas,  doubtfully. 

"And  he  will  have  it,  if  he  holds  firm,"  rejoined  the  con- 
stable. 

Several  of  the  upper  council  had  exchanged  looks  at  the 
vivacious  expression  of  the  young  king's  sentiments  and 
inclinations,  and  seemed  shaken  in  their  resolve.  Seymour 
began  to  think  his  grand  point  was  gained.  The  lord  pro- 
tector looked  uneasy,  but  Cranmer  came  to  the  rescue. 

"I  can  easily  understand  your  Highness' s  preference  of 
your  younger  uncle,"  observed  the  primate  to  the  young 
king;  "but  age,  experience,  and  I  may  add  high  station, 
render  the  Earl  of  Hertford  the  more  suitable  of  the  two  to  be 
your  governor. ' ' 

"The  last  defect  might  be  easily  amended,  your  Grace," 


Chap,  iy'\  KING  EDWARD  KNIGHTED  109 

rejoined  Edward,  in  a  tone  of  pique,  "  though  I  cannot 
so  readily  give  my  uncle.  Sir  Thomas,  my  Lord  of  Hertford's 
years  and  experience.  But  be  it  as  ye  will.  Ye  are  the  best 
judges  of  what  is  fittest  for  me.  I  heartily  thank  your  Grace 
and  the  lords  and  gentlemen  of  the  council  for  the  care  taken 
of  me." 

Thus  were  Seymour's  hopes  rudely  dashed  to  the  ground. 
But  he  was  somewhat  cheered  by  a  significant  look  directed 
towards  him  by  his  royal  nephew — z.  look  that  did  not  escape 
the  vigilance  of  the  lord  protector. 

**  If  I  cannot  be  governor  of  his  person,  at  all  events  I  shall 
have  unlimited  influence  over  him  in  secret, ' '  mentally  ejacu- 
lated Seymour. 

Their  business  over,  the  lord  chancellor  and  the  rest  of  the 
council  retired.  They  were  succeeded  by  the  lords  spiritual, 
headed  by  Gardiner,  who,  as  chief  prelate,  walked  first. 
Tunstal  having  departed  with  the  council,  the  Bishop  of 
Winchester  was  followed  by  Doctor  Bonner,  Bishop  of  Lon- 
don, and  the  long  list  of  church  dignitaries  was  closed  by 
Doctor  Bush,  Bishop  of  Bristol. 

Then  came  the  lords  temporal,  foremost  of  whom  was  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset.  The  Earls  of  Oxford,  Shrewsbury,  Derby, 
and  Sussex,  succeeded.  Each  noble  as  he  arose  from  paying 
homage,  exclaimed  with  a  loud  and  earnest  voice,  **God 
save  your  Grace  !"  Then  came  Lord  Morley,  Lord  Dacre  of 
the  North,  and  the  Lords  Ferrers,  Clinton,  Gray,  and  Scrope. 
These  were  succeeded  by  the  Lords  Abergavenny,  Conyers, 
Latimer,  Fitzwalter,  and  Bray,  with  a  multitude  of  others 
whom  it  would  be  tedious  to  particularize ;  neither  can  we 
call  over  the  long  roll  of  knights  and  esquires  who  subse- 
quently vowed  allegiance  to  their  youthful  sovereign. 

Suffice  it  to  mention  that  among  those  who  thus  swore  fidel- 
ity to  the  new  king  were  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  the 
aldermen  and  sheriff's  in  their  scarlet  robes. 

It  was  while  the  civic  authorities  were  yet  in  Edward's 


no  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  f 

presence,  that  he  prayed  them  to  tarry  a  moment,  and, 
descending  from  the  throne,  besought  his  elder  uncle  to 
knight  him. 

Whereupon,  the  lord  protector  immediately  drew  his  sword 
and  dubbed  the  king;  after  which,  the  youthful  monarch 
took  his  uncle's  sword,  and,  commanding  the  lord  mayor  to 
kneel,  struck  him  on  the  shoulder  with  the  blade  with  right 
good  will,  bidding  him  arise  Sir  Henry  Hubblethome. 

Being  a  very  portly  personage,  the  lord  mayor  had  much 
ado  to  get  up  again,  but,  having  accomplished  the  feat,  with 
considerable  embarrassment  he  proffered  his  thanks  to  the 
youthful  king,  who  could  scarce  forbear  from  laughing  at  his 
confusion. 

Then  the  young  monarch  again  gracefully  ascended  the 
throne.  As  soon  as  he  faced  the  assemblage,  they  all  cried 
out  together,  **  God  save  the  noble  King  Edward  !" 

The  trumpets  were  then  sounded. 

Then  the  young  king  took  off  his  cap  with  much  majesty 
of  action,  and  stood  erect  before  them  all. 

Silence  immediately  ensued — a  tag  might  have  been  heard 
to  fall.  Amidst  this  deep  hush,  in  tones  that  vibrated  through 
every  breast,  and  stirred  up  the  strongest  feelings  of  loyalty 
and  devotion,  the  young  king  said  : 

**We  heartily  thank  you,  my  lords  all.  Hereafter,  in  all 
that  ye  shall  have  to  do  with  us  for  any  suit  or  causes,  ye  shall 
be  heartily  welcome. ' ' 

Once  more  the  trumpets  were  sounded.  Cannon  replied 
from  without.     And  so  the  ceremony  ended. 

A  grand  banquet  followed,  at  which  all  the  lords  assisted — 
the  queen-dowager  sitting  on  the  king's  right,  and  the  lord 
protector  on  the  left. 

That  night,  and  for  some  time  afterwards,  the  whole  of  the 
council,  upper  and  lower,  with  many  of  the  nobles  and  knights 
and  their  attendants,  were  lodged  within  the  Tower. 


Chap.  K]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  ^^^ 


CHAPTER  V 

HOW  KING  EDWARD  yi.  WENT  FORTH  BETIMES  INTO  THE 
PRIVY  GARDEN  OF  THE  TOWER.— HOW  HE  THERE  EN- 
COUNTERED THE  YOUTHFUL  LADY  JANE  GREY,  AND 
OF  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  THAT  ENSUED  BE- 
TWEEN THEM 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  the 
Tower  had  been  little  more  than  a  strongly-fortified,  well- 
garrisoned  state  prison.  Its  dungeons  were  crowded  with  suf- 
ferers from  the  terrible  statute  of  the  **Six  Articles,"  and 
with  important  state  delinquents ;  but  the  grand  apartments 
of  the  palace  were  closed,  and  the  council  chambers  in  the 
White  Tower  but  rarely  visited.  Never,  indeed,  since  the 
luckless  Catherine  Howard  was  brought  to  the  block,  had  the 
ruthless  monarch  set  foot  within  the  fortress.  Well  might  he 
avoid  the  Tower,  for  its  very  stones  would  have  cried  out 
against  him  !  He  could  not  have  passed  over  the  open  space 
in  front  of  Saint  Peter's  Chapel,  and  have  marked  that  blood- 
sprinkled  spot,  where,  according  to  tradition,  no  grass  will 
grow,  without  thinking  of  the  two  lovely  women  who  had 
there  been  put  to  death,  after  vainly  suing  to  him  for  mercy. 
He  could  not  have  looked  around  at  the  various  towers  gird- 
ing the  inner  ward,  without  recalling  the  hundreds  whom  he 
had  there  immured.  To  him,  the  Tower  must  have  been  full 
of  dreadful  memories — memories  of  the  noble,  the  wise,  the 
good,  the  beautiful  and  once-beloved,  whom  he  had  held  in 
durance  in  its  cells,  or  delivered  over  to  the  headsman.  If 
all  those  who  had  perished  by  his  decrees,  by  the  axe,  or  at 
the  stake,  could  have  been  collected  together  on  Tower  Green, 
they  would  well-nigh  have  filled  that  spkcious  axea.     No  won- 


112  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

der  Henry,  proof  as  he  was  against  remorse,  should  shun  the 
scene  of  his  atrocities. 

But  the  gloom  that  had  so  long  hung  over  the  blood-stained 
fortress,  making  it  an  object  of  dread  to  all  who  gazed  upon 
it,  was  now  for  a  time  dispelled.  Sounds  of  revelry  and  re- 
joicing, as  we  have  shown,  were  once  more  heard  within  its 
courts.  All  the  state  apartments  in  the  palace — a  structure 
that,  unfortunately  for  the  love  of  antiquity,  has  totally  disap- 
peared— were  decorated  anew,  and  thrown  open.  The  court 
was  now  held  at  the  Tower,  and  such  was  the  throng  of  visi- 
tants brought  thither  by  the  circumstances,  that  every  avail- 
able chamber  in  the  fortress  had  an  occupant,  and  many 
chambers — ^and  these  none  of  the  largest — ^had  several. 

But  not  only  were  there  more  guests  within  the  palace  and 
in  the  different  lodgings  connected  with  it,  but  the  military 
force  ordinarily  maintained  within  the  Tower  was  trebled. 
These  precautions  were  taken  for  the  security  of  the  young 
king's  person.  Not  that  any  rising  on  the  part  of  the  citizens 
was  apprehended ;  but  such  was  the  course  usually  adopted  at 
that  time  on  the  accession  of  a  monarch  to  the  throne.  Thus, 
in  addition  to  the  nobles  and  their  retinues,  the  Tower  was  so 
crowded  with  archers  and  arquebusiers  that  it  was  wonderful 
where  so  many  persons  could  be  bestowed.  The  bastions 
bristled  with  cannon,  and  the  ramparts  were  thronged  with 
men-at-arms.  Yeomen  of  the  guard  paraded  within  the  outer 
ward,  while  troops  of  henchmen,  sergeants  of  office,  clerks  of 
the  king's  house,  marshals  of  the  hall,  ushers  and  sewers 
of  the  hall  and  chamber,  minstrels,  and  serving-men,  in  rich 
and  varied  liveries,  were  collected  in  the  courts  of  the  palace, 
or  at  various  points  of  the  wide  inner  ward.  Within  and 
without,  all  was  stir  and  animation.  And  if  the  hapless 
prisoners  still  languishing  in  the  dungeons  did  not  share  in  the 
general  rejoicing,  they  did  not  interfere  with  it,  since  none 
save  the  gaolers  troubled  themselves  about  them. 

Early  on  the  morning  after  Edward's  arrival  at  the  Tower, 


Chap,  y]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  113 

while  the  extraordinary  bustle  just  described  prevailed  through- 
out the  fortress,  the  object  of  all  this  unwonted  stir  was  walk- 
ing, almost  alone,  in  the  privy  garden  attached  to  the  palace. 
Garden  and  palace  have  long  since  disappeared,  but  at  that 
time  the  former  occupied  a  large  triangular  space  between 
the  Lanthorn  Tower,  the  Salt  Tower,  and  the  Well  Tower, 
and  being  enclosed  by  the  high  ballium  wall,  had  a  very/ 
secluded  air.  It  was  pleasantly  laid  out  with  parterres, 
walks,  a  clipped  yew-tree  alley,  and  a  fountain,  and  boasted 
two  or  three  fine  elms,  and  an  ancient  mulberry  tree.  But  it 
must  be  recollected  that  it  was  now  winter,  and  consequently 
the  place  was  not  seen  to  advantage :  the  trees  were  leafless, 
the  water  in  the  fountain  congealed,  the  clipped  alley  covered 
with  hoar-frost.  Whenever  the  Tower  was  used  as  a  royal 
residence,  the  privy  garden  was  reserved  exclusively  for  the 
king.  Edward,  therefore,  had  no  reason  to  apprehend  intru- 
sion while  taking  exercise  within  it. 

Notwithstanding  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of  the  previous 
day,  Edward  quitted  his  couch  long  before  it  became  light, 
and  having  finished  his  devotions,  and  heard  a  homily  from  his 
chaplain,  which  occupied  some  time,  he  repaired  by  a  private 
passage,  and  attended  by  a  single  gentleman  of  the  chamber, 
to  the  palace  garden,  where  he  supposed  he  should  be  un- 
disturbed. The  diligent  young  monarch,  who  never  wasted  a 
moment,  did  not  seek  this  quiet  retreat  merely  for  the  purpose 
of  exercise,  but,  while  walking  to  and  fro,  employed  his  time 
in  studying  the  Institutes  of  Justinian,  while  another  ponder- 
ous tome,  namely,  the  venerable  Bracton's  treatise,  **  De 
legibus  et  consuetudinibus  Anglm,''''  was  borne  by  his  atten- 
dant for  occasional  consultation.  Wrapped  in  a  velvet  gown, 
lined  and  bordered  with  sable,  Edward  did  not  seem  to  feel 
the  cold  half  so  much  as  his  attendant,  but  continued  to  pore 
upon  his  book  as  unconcernedly  as  if  it  had  been  a  morning  in 
June,  sometimes  moving  very  slowly,  and  occasionally  coming 
to  a  standstill,  if  a  passage  perplexed  him. 
8 


114  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  r 

The  person  with  him,  whom  he  addressed  as  John  Fowler, 
had  nothing  very  noticeable  in  his  appearance.  He  was 
short  and  stout,  by  no  means  ill-favored,  and  wore  a  reddish 
sugar-loaf  beard.  Fond  of  good  cheer,  he  had  usually  a 
ruddy,  jovial  look,  and  a  droll,  good-humored  expression 
of  countenance ;  but  his  face  was  now  pinched  with  cold,  and 
his  nose,  large,  knobbed,  and  mulberry-colored,  was  literally 
blue  with  cold,  and  he  had  much  ado  to  prevent  his  teeth 
from  chattering.  He  did  not  dare  to  utter  a  complaint,  and, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  was  obliged  to  stop  whenever  his  royal 
master  stopped,  and  keep  up  his  circulation  in  the  best  way  he 
could.  While  Edward  was  buried  in  Justinian,  how  Master 
Fowler  longed  to  be  back  at  the  great  fire  in  the  hall,  heaped 
up  with  logs,  which  he  had  so  recently  quitted  !  how  he 
promised  to  solace  himself  for  his  present  suffering  by  a  deep 
draught  of  mulled  sack,  and  a  plentiful  breakfast  on  pork- 
chine,  roast  capon,  and  baked  red-deer !  Fowler  had  occu- 
pied the  post  he  now  filled  during  the  late  king's  lifetime. 
Much  trusted  by  the  lord  protector,  he  was  placed  near 
Edward  in  order  that  all  the  young  king's  doings  might 
be  reported  to  his  uncle.  Whether  Fowler  merited  the  confi- 
dence reposed  in  him  by  his  employer  will  be  seen  hereafter. 

Nearly  an  hour  passed  by  in  this  manner,  and  all  the 
creature -comforts  so  anxiously  looked  forward  to  by  the  half- 
frozen  gentleman  of  the  privy  chamber  seemed  as  far  distant 
/as  ever.  The  young  king  still  continued  occupied  with  Jus- 
tinian, and  showed  no  signs  of  returning  to  the  palace.  He 
had  come  to  a  stand,  and  was  conning  over  a  passage  of  un- 
usual perplexity,  when  another  person  entered  the  garden. 
This  was  a  young  girl  of  extraordinary  beauty,  wrapped  like 
the  king  in  a  furred  mantle  to  defend  her  tender  person  from 
the  severity  of  the  weather,  and,  like  him,  provided  with  a 
book,  on  which  her  eyes  were  studiously  fixed — so  studiously 
indeed  that  she  did  not  appear  to  observe  the  young  monarch 
and  his  attendant.     On  his  part,  also,  Edward  was  equally 


Chap.  K]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  115 

unconscious  of  her  approach,  and  never  once  raised  his  eyes 
to  look  at  her. 

It  was  the  duty  of  the  gentleman  of  the  chamber  to  warn 
the  fair  intruder  from  the  royal  presence ;  but  either  he  was 
too  cold  to  discharge  his  office  properly,  or  curious  to  see 
what  would  happen,  for  he  contented  himself  with  coughing 
slightly,  and  failing  to  arouse  the  king's  attention,  he  took 
no  other  means  of  checking  her  advance. 

By  this  time  the  fair  young  creature  was  within  a  short  dis- 
tance of  Edward,  who,  hearing  footsteps,  lifted  his  eyes 
from  his  book,  and  regarded  her  with  some  astonishment,  but 
with  anything  rather  than  displeasure. 

At  the  same  moment  the  young  maiden  looked  up,  exhibit- 
ing a  countenance  of  wondrous  loveliness.  A  slight  blush 
suffused  her  features,  and  heightened,  if  possible,  their  beauty. 
She  might  have  been  a  year  older  than  the  king — ^at  all  events, 
she  was  the  taller  of  the  two.  Her  high  birth  was  proclaimed 
in  her  lineaments,  in  her  carriage — which  had  a  most  charm- 
ing dignity  about  it — and  in  her  attire,  which  was  such  as  be- 
came the  daughter  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  nobles  of  the 
land.  Serene  and  gentle  in  expression,  full  of  thought,  and 
apparently  free  from  any  taint  of  humanity,  her  physiognomy 
presented  that  rare  union  of  intelligence  and  beauty,  which, 
when  seen  in  perfection,  as  in  the  present  instance,  seems  to 
raise  its  possessor  to  a  level  with  a  higher  and  purer  order 
than  those  of  earth.  Her  look  and  smile  were  little  less  than 
seraphic.  Such  was  the  youthful  Lady  Jane  Grey,  daughter 
of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  great-niece  of  Henry  VUL,  and 
grand -daughter  of  his  beautiful  sister  Mary,  wedded  first  to 
Louis  XIL  of  France,  and  secondly  to  the  illustrious  Charles 
Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk. 

*'Good  morrow,  sweet  cousin,"  said  the  youthful  king, 
graciously  returning  Jane's  lowly  obeisance.  '*  Marry,  you 
are  early  astir.  I  should  have  thought,  that  on  a  frosty  morn 
like  this,  a  seat  by  the  warm  hearth  would  have  been  fitter  for 


Ii6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book\ 

one  so  delicate  as  yourself  than  exposure  to  the  keen  air.  But 
you  seem  to  bear  the  cold  bravely. ' ' 

'*  I  do  not  feel  it,'*  replied  the  young  Lady  Jane  ;  **  I  am 
accustomed  to  exposure  to  all  weathers,  and  take  no  hurt  from 
it.  Your  Majesty  is  mistaken  in  supposing  that  I  am  at  all 
delicate.  I  am  far  hardier  than  the  slightness  of  my  frame 
would  seem  to  warrant.  When  I  am  at  Bradgate,  in  Leicester- 
shire, I  ride  to  the  chase  with  my  father,  and  am  never  wear- 
ied by  a  long  day's  sport.  Sport  did  I  call  it  ?  "  she  added, 
with  a  half-sigh — ** hunting  the  deer  is  no  pastime  to  me; 
but  such  it  is  generally  considered,  and  so  I  must  perforce 
style  it.  Then  I  rise  betimes,  for  I  am  no  lag-a-bed,  and 
take  my  book,  and  stroll  forth  into  the  park,  if  it  be  summer, 
or  into  the  garden  if  winter,  and  read  and  meditate  till  sum* 
moned  to  my  slender  repast. ' ' 

*'Much  the  same  mode  of  life  as  I  have  passed  myself," 
replied  Edward,  **  though  I  have  never  yet  had  my  fill  of  the 
chase.  Now  I  am  king  I  mean  to  gratify  my  inclinations,  and 
kill  plenty  of  deer  in  Windsor  Forest  and  in  Enfield  Chase. 
But  if  you  like  not  hunting,  sweet  coz,  surely  you  must  be 
fond  of  hawking?     'Tis  a  noble  pastime  !" 

'*May  be  so,"  rejoined  Jane,  gravely,  "but  I  like  it  no 
better  than  hunting ;  and  I  like  coursing  with  greyhounds  less 
than  hawking,  and  angling  less  than  coursing.  Your  Majesty 
will  smile  when  I  tell  you  that  I  deem  all  these  sports  cruel. 
They  yield  me  no  delight.  I  cannot  bear  to  have  harmless 
creatures  tortured  to  make  sport  for  me.  It  sickens  me  to  see 
a  noble  hart  pulled  down,  and  I  have  rescued  more  than  one 
poor  crying  hare  from  the  very  jaws  of  its  pursuers.  Poor 
beasts,  I  pity  them.     I  pity  even  the  mischievous  otter. ' ' 

''I  do  not  share  your  sentiments,  Jane,'*  said  the  king; 
**  but  I  admire  them,  as  they  show  the  tenderness  of  your  dis- 
position. For  my  own  part,  while  hunting  or  hawking,  I  be- 
come so  excited  that  I  feel  little  for  beast  or  bird.  I  have 
small  liking  for  angling,  I  must  needs  confess,  for  that  sport 


Chap,  y}  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  117 

does  not  excite  me,  but  I  read  by  the  river-side  while  my  pre- 
ceptors ply  the  rod  and  line.  But,  as  I  just  now  said,  I  will 
have  a  grand  chase  in  Windsor  Forest,  which  my  uncle,  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  shall  conduct ;  and  you  shall  come  and  see 
it,  if  you  list,  sweet  cousin.'* 

**  I  pray  your  Majesty  to  hold  me  excused,**  replied  Jane. 
"  I  have  more  hunting  than  I  care  for  at  Bradgate.  But  I 
should  delight  in  roaming  through  Windsor  Forest,  which, 
they  tell  me,  is  a  right  noble  wood.** 

* '  Have  you  not  seen  it  ?  * '  cried  Edward.  "  Nay,  then,  there 
is  a  great  pleasure  in  store  for  you,  sweet  coz.  Marry,  there  are 
no  such  groves  and  glades  at  Bradgate  as  you  shall  find  there. ' ' 

**That  I  can  readily  believe,**  rejoined  Jane;  *'and  the 
castle  itself  hath  much  interest  to  me.** 

**  I  shall  not  visit  it  until  after  a  sad  ceremony  hath  taken 
place  in  Saint  George's  Chapel,**  observed  Edward,  with 
much  emotion,  "and  the  king,  my  lamented  father — on 
whose  soul  may  Jesu  have  mercy ! — hath  been  placed  by  the 
side  of  my  sainted  mother  in  its  vaults.  But  when  this  season 
of  gloom  is  past,  when  I  have  been  crowned  at  Westminster, 
when  the  lord  protector  and  the  council  will  let  me  remove 
my  court  to  Windsor,  then,  sweet  cousin,  you  must  come  to 
the  castle.  Marry,  it  will  content  you.  *Tis  far  better  worth 
seeing  than  this  grim  old  Tower,  which  looks  more  like  a  dun- 
geon than  a  palace.** 

''Nay,  my  liege,**  replied  Jane,  "Windsor  Castle,  how- 
ever grand  and  regal  it  may  be,  can  never  interest  me  more 
than  this  stern-looking  fortress.  Within  these  walls  what 
tragedies  have  been  enacted  !  what  terrible  occurrences  have 
taken  place  !  It  must  be  peopled  by  phantoms.  But  I  will 
not  dwell  longer  on  this  theme,  and  I  pray  you  pardon  the 
allusion.  Strange  to  say,  ever  since  I  set  foot  within  the 
Tower,  I  have  been  haunted  with  the  notion,  which  I  cannot 
shake  off,  that  I  myself  shall,  one  day,  be  a  prisoner  in  its 
cells,  and  lose  my  life  on  its  green. '  * 


Ii8  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Bock  I 

'*  That  day  will  not  occur  in  my  time,  sweet  cousin,"  re- 
plied Edward.  **  It  is  not  a  place  to  inspire  lively  thoughts 
or  pleasant  dreams,  and  I  must  needs  own  that  I  slept  ill  my- 
self last  night.  I  dreamed  of  the  two  children  of  my  name- 
sake, Edward  V. ,  and  their  murder  in  the  Bloody  Tower.  I 
hope  you  had  no  such  dreams,  Jane  ? ' ' 

*' Indeed,  my  liege,  I  had — dreams  more  terrible,  per- 
chance, than  your  own,"  she  rejoined.  **You  will  guess 
what  I  dreamed  about  when  I  tell  you  that,  on  awaking,  I  was 
rejoiced  to  find  my  head  still  on  my  shoulders.  Hath  your 
Grace  any  faith  in  omens  ? ' ' 

*'  Not  much,"  answered  Edward.  **  But  why  do  you  ask, 
sweet  coz  ? ' ' 

''Your  Majesty  shall  hear,"  she  returned.  **  When  I  en- 
tered the  Tower  yesterday  with  the  noble  lord  my  father,  and 
your  Grace's  loving  cousin  my  mother,  we  crossed  the  inner 
ward  on  our  way  to  the  palace,  and  amongst  the  crowd  assem- 
bled on  the  green  I  noticed  a  singularly  ill-favored  personage, 
whose  features  and  figure  attracted  my  attention.  The  man 
limped  in  his  gait,  and  was  clad  in  blood -red  serge,  over  which 
he  wore  a  leathern  jerkin.  Black  elf-locks  hung  on  either 
side  of  his  cadaverous  visage,  and  there  was  something  wolfish 
and  bloodthirsty  in  his  looks.  On  seeing  me  notice  him,  the 
man  doffed  his  cap,  and  advanced  towards  me,  but  my  father 
angrily  ordered  him  back,  and  struck  him  with  his  horsewhip. 
The  man  limped  off,  glaring  malignantly  at  me  with  his  red, 
wolfish  eyes,  and  my  father  then  told  me  it  was  Mauger,  the 
headsman,  and,  as  it  was  deemed  unlucky  to  encounter  him, 
he  had  driven  him  away.  Doth  not  your  Majesty  think  that 
the  meeting  with  such  a  man,  on  such  a  spot,  was  an  ill- 
omen  ?  * ' 

**  Heaven  avert  it !"  exclaimed  the  young  king.  **  But  let 
us  change  the  topic.  Tell  me  the  subject  of  your  studies,  my 
learned  cousin?" 

*'  I  can  lay  no  claim  to  the  epithet  your  Majesty  hath  be- 


Chap,  y]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  119 

stowea  upon  me,"  she  replied.  '*  But  the  book  I  am  reading 
is  Martin  Bucer's  '  Commentary  on  the  Gospels.'  " 

''  I  have  heard  of  it  from  my  tutor,  Doctor  Cox,  who  de- 
scribes it  as  an  admirable  treatise.  You  shall  expound  it  to 
me,  Jane.  Doubtless  you  have  read  Bucer's  '  Commentary  on 
the  Psalms'?" 

'  *  I  have,  my  liege,  and  I  will  essay  to  expound  that  work 
to  you,  as  also  the  '  Pirskoavol '  of  Paul  Fagius,  which  I  have 
been  lately  reading,  if  you  be  so  minded." 

'*  You  could  not  please  me  better.  I  am  certain  to  derive 
profit  and  instruction  from  your  comments,  Jane.  The  prep- 
aration is  needful,  for  it  is  my  purpose  to  invite  Bucer  and 
Fagius  to  England.  His  Grace  of  Canterbury  hath  already 
spoken  to  me  concerning  them.  It  shall  be  my  aim  to  make 
my  court  the  resort  of  learned  and  pious  men,  and,  above  all, 
of  such  as  are  most  zealous  for  the  reform  of  the  Church,  and 
its  complete  purification  from  the  errors  of  Popery." 

*' Bucer  and  Fagius  are  both  men  of  great  learning  and 
piety,  sound  and  severe  controversialists,  able  and  ready  to 
refute  and  assail,  if  need  be,  the  adversaries  of  the  good 
cause,  and  I  am  rejoiced  that  your  Grace  intends  to  invite 
them  to  your  court.  You  will  do  yourself  honor  thereby. 
But  there  is  another  person,  not  unknown  to  your  Highness, 
who  I  think  might  be  of  service  in  carrying  out  the  mighty 
work  of  the  Reformation  which  you  project.  I  mean  the 
Princess  Elizabeth's  instructor,  worthy  Master  Roger  As- 
cham. ' ' 

'*  I  have  not  overlooked  him,"  replied  Edward.  '*Ascham 
merits  promotion,  and  he  shall  have  it.  A  man  must  needs 
be  master  of  Greek  to  fill  a  professor's  chair  in  St.  John's 
College,  Cambridge,  as  Ascham  hath  filled  it,  and  his  knowl- 
edge of  divinity  is  equal,  I  am  told,  to  his  scholarship.  My 
wise  and  well -beloved  father  chose  him  from  his  acquirements 
to  be  Elizabeth's  instructor — she  is  now  reading  Sophocles 
and  Cicero  with  him — ^and  when  his  task  with  her  is  finished. 


I20  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Bookt 

as  it  must  be  ere  long,  for  she  is  a  quick  and  willing  scholar—. 
I  will  have  him  near  me. '  * 

"Your  Grace  will  do  well,'*  rejoined  Jane.  "  Roger  As- 
cham  ought  to  be  one  of  the  luminaries  of  our  age ;  and, 
above  all,  he  is  a  godly  man,  and  without  guile.  His  latinity 
is  remarkably  pure.** 

"It  must  be  so,  if  you  commend  it,  my  learned  cousin," 
remarked  the  king,  **  for  you  are  a  very  competent  judge. 
Both  Sir  John  Cheke  and  Doctor  Cox  lauded  your  Latin  let- 
ters to  me,  and  said  they  were  written  with  classic  elegance 
and  purity.** 

"Your  Grace  will  make  me  vain,**  rejoined  Jane,  slightly 
coloring;  "but  I  am  bound  to  state  that  my  own  worthy 
tutor,  Master  Elmer,  made  the  same  remarks  upon  the  letters 
with  which  you  have  honored  me.  Talking  of  my  correspon- 
dents— if  I  may  venture  to  speak  of  any  other  in  the  same 
breath  as  your  Majesty — I  am  reminded  that  there  is  another 
person  worthy  of  your  attention,  inasmuch  as  he  would  be 
a  humble  but  zealous  co-operator  in  your  great  design.  The 
person  I  refer  to  is  Henri  BuUinger,  disciple  and  successor  of 
Zwinglius,  and  at  this  present  a  pastor  at  Zurich.  Bullinger 
hath  suffered  much  persecution,  and  would  endure  yet  more 
if  needful.'* 

"Bullinger  is  an  ardent  Reformer,'*  observed  Edward. 
"  He  assisted,  I  remember,  at  the  famous  conference  at  Berne. 
You  shall  tell  me  more  about  him  on  some  other  occasion, 
and  if  you  will  favor  me  with  a  sight  of  his  letters  to  you  I 
shall  be  well  pleased.  Meanwhile,  you  may  rest  satisfied  that 
he  shall  not  be  forgotten.  You  are  a  very  zealous  advocate 
for  the  Reformed  faith  yourself,  cousin  Jane. ' ' 

"  I  have  that  in  me  which  would  enable  me  to  die  for  the 
religion  I  profess,  sire,"  she  cried,  looking  upwards. 

"  I  do  not  doubt  your  constancy,  sweet  cousin,  but  I  trust 
it  will  never  be  put  to  the  proof/*  said  the  young  king,  ap- 
provingly.    "  I  came  out  to  study  Justinian  and  Bracton,  but 


Chat).  K]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  121 

you  have  given  me  a  far  better  lesson  than  any  law-maker 
could  aiford.  You  must  come  often  to  our  court,  Jane, 
whether  we  be  at  Westminster,  Shene,  or  Windsor. '  * 

''It  will  gladden  me  to  comply  with  your  Majesty's  in- 
junctions, if  I  have  my  father's  permission,"  she  replied; 
*'  but  he  will  probably  think  me  much  too  young  to  appear  at 
court.  I  have  lived  almost  wholly  in  retirement  hitherto,  my 
education  being  far  from  complete." 

''But  if  I  command,  my  lord  of  Dorset  must  obey;  and 
so  must  you,  fair  cousin,"  cried  Edward,  with  a  slight  touch 
of  his  father's  imperious  manner. 

"Your  Grace  will  command  nothing  that  a  loyal  subject 
cannot  comply  with — of  that  I  am  certain,"  rejoined  Jane. 
"  But  your  Majesty  seems  to  forget  that  you  have  a  governor 
— and  a  strict  one,  if  what  I  hear  be  true.  Are  you  quite 
sure  that  the  Lord  Protector  will  allow  you  to  choose  your 
own  companions  ? ' ' 

"  Peradventure  not,  unless  they  are  agreeable  to  him," 
returned  Edward ;  "but  he  cannot  object  to  you,  fair  cousin, 
or  to  my  sister  Elizabeth.  I  will  not  ask  him  to  let  my  sister 
Mary  come  often  to  me,  unless  she  will  abjure  her  errors,  and 
conform  to  the  new  doctrines. ' ' 

"  Gentle  persuasion  may  lead  the  Lady  Mary's  Grace  into 
the  right  path,"  said  Jane.  "No  pains  should  be  spared 
with  one  so  richly  endowed.  Such  a  convert  would  be 
worthy  of  your  Majesty,  and  redound  greatly  to  your  honor." 

"  I  despair  of  making  a  convert  of  Mary,"  replied  Edward. 
■'  So  stiff-necked  and  bigoted  is  she,  that  even  the  strong- 
willed  king  my  father  had  enough  to  do  to  bring  her  to  sub- 
mission; and  for  a  time  she  set  his  rightful  authority  at 
defiance.  His  Grace  of  Canterbury  will  advise  me  as  to 
the  course  that  ought  to  be  pursued  with  her,  and  I  shall 
be  guided  by  his  counsel. — Know  you  my  younger  uncle,  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  Jane  ?  * ' 

"But  little,"  she  answered.     "I  have  seen  him  with  my 


122  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

father,  and  I  could  not  fail  to  notice  him  yesterday,  for 
by  common  assent  he  was  judged  the  noblest-looking  person- 
age who  vowed  fealty  to  you.  Now  I  bethink  me,  her  High- 
ness the  queen-dowager  called  my  attention  to  him,  and 
asked  me  what  I  thought  of  him.  I  told  her  I  deemed 
him  wondrous  handsome,  whereat  she  smiled  very  graciously 
upon  me.*' 

**  He  is  wondrous  handsome  !"  cried  Edward,  enthusiasti- 
cally; "and  I  marvel  not  her  Majesty  should  smile  to  hear 
him  praised,  for  he  is  a  favorite  with  her,  as  indeed  he  is  with 
my  sister  Elizabeth,  and  with  most  people,  except  the  lord 
protector.  To  speak  plain — for  I  dare  speak  plain  to  you, 
sweet  cousin — I  think  the  lord  protector  is  jealous  of  him,  and 
of  his  fancied  influence  over  me.  I  would  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour  had  been  chosen  my  governor.  My  elder  uncle 
is  good  and  kind,  but  he  is  austere,  and — not  exactly  like 
Sir  Thomas.  He  will  keep  all  the  power  in  his  own  hands, 
and  leave  little  more  than  the  name  to  me. ' ' 

*  *  Perhaps  it  is  for  the  best.  Your  Grace  is  very  young,  and 
can  have  had  but  slight  experience  in  state  affairs. ' ' 

''But  I  shall  not  like  the  lord  protector's  control,"  cried 
Edward.  **I  feel  impatient  already,  though  he  has  scarcely 
begun  to  exercise  it.  But  I  could  obey  Sir  Thomas  without  a 
murmur. ' ' 

"I  begin  to  perceive  that  Sir  Thomas's  influence  over 
your  Majesty  is  by  no  means  imaginary,  and  that  the  lord 
protector  may  have  good  cause  for  jealousy  of  his  younger 
brother,"  observed  Jane,  smiling.  **But  I  must  crave  your 
Majesty's  permission  to  retire.  I  have  sufficiently  interrupted 
your  studies  already,  and  will  not  trespass  further  on  your 
valuable  time. ' ' 

'*  Nay,  I  hold  your  discourse  to  be  more  profitable  than  my 
studies,  as  I  just  now  told  you,  fair  coz,"  rejoined  the  youth- 
ful king.  **  I  shall  read  no  more  now.  Do  not  burden  your- 
self longer  with  that  book,  but  let  Fowler  carry  it  for  you. ' ' 


Chap,  y]  THE  PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE  123 

And  as  at  a  sign  from  his  Majesty  the  gentleman  in  attend- 
ance respectfully  advanced  to  take  the  books  from  his  royal 
master  and  the  Lady  Jane,  Edward  observed  that  he  looked 
very  cold. 

**  I  am  well-nigh  starved,  an  please  your  Majesty,**  re- 
plied Fowler.  **  I  have  no  inward  fire,  like  your  Highness 
and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  to  warm  me  withal.'* 

**What  inward  fire  dost  thou  speak  of.  Fowler?'*  de- 
manded the  king,  smiling. 

"The  fire  of  intellect,  an  please  your  Majesty,'*  replied 
the  other,  *' which  burns  so  brightly  in  your  Grace  and  my 
Lady  Jane,  that  you  have  no  need  of  any  grosser  element 
to  warm  you — at  least,  it  would  seem  so.  For  my  own  part, 
the  little  wit  I  possess  is  frostbitten,  like  the  point  of  my 
nose — if  so  blunt  a  nose  can  be  said  to  have  a  point — and,  if 
I  tarry  here  much  longer,  I  am  like  to  lose  both  wit  and 
nose. '  * 

**  Thou  shouldst  have  advised  me  of  thy  sorry  case  before, 
good  fellow,'*  said  the  king,  laughing.  "Let  us  in,  sweet 
cousin ;  or,  while  we  discourse  here  at  our  ease,  this  dainty 
gentleman  will  be  turned  to  ice. ' ' 

"  Of  a  verity  shall  I,  my  gracious  liege,"  rejoined  Fowler ; 
"an  I  be  not  speedily  delivered  hence,  I  shall  be  fixed  to  the 
spot  like  yonder  frozen  fountain. ' ' 

"  And  albeit  thou  mightst  ornament  the  garden  as  a  statue, 
I  cannot  afford  to  lose  a  good  servant,  so  I  will  take  compas- 
sion upon  thee.     Come,  fair  coz." 

So  saying,  the  young  king  gave  his  hand  to  the  Lady  Jane, 
and  led  her  towards  the  entrance  of  the  palace,  followed  by 
Fowler,  upon  whose  features  the  anticipation  of  a  warm  fire 
and  plenteous  repast  had  produced  a  very  pleasurable  expres- 
sion. 


124  T^^  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOiVER  [Book  I 


CHAPTER  VI 

OF  THE  DIFFERENCE  BETJVEEN  THE  LORD  PROTECTOR  AND 
SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR,  AND  HOIV  IT  IVAS  ADJUSTED 

The  privy  garden  was  bounded  on  the  north  by  a  long 
stone  gallery,  extending  from  the  Lanthorn  Tower  to  the 
Salt  Tower,  and  communicating  by  a  corridor  with  the  royal 
apartments.  From  an  upper  window  in  this  gallery  two 
persons  had  for  some  time  been  looking  down  upon  the 
youthful  pair,  and  the  window  luckily  being  open,  no  part 
of  their  discourse  escaped  them.  They  listened  to  it  with 
the  greatest  attention,  and  both  seemed  equally  well  pleased 
with  what  they  heard.  Though  these  eavesdroppers  were 
wholly  unobserved  by  the  young  monarch  and  his  companion, 
they  were  not  unnoticed  by  Fowler,  who,  having  nothing 
else  to  do,  was  casting  his  eyes  about  in  every  direction; 
but,  as  he  recognized  in  them  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  the 
Lady  Jane's  father,  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  he  did  not 
think  it  necessary  to  give  his  royal  master  a  hint  of  their 
proximity.  Moreover,  a  sign  from  Seymour,  with  whom  he 
seemed  to  have  a  secret  understanding,  served  to  make  him 
hold  his  tongue. 

Just  at  the  point  when  Edward  called  to  his  attendant  to 
relieve  him  and  the  Lady  Jane  from  the  books,  the  listeners 
withdrew  from  the  window,  and  the  gallery  being  empty  at 
the  time,  Seymour  said  to  the  marquis,  with  a  proud  smile  : 

'*  What  think  you  of  what  you  have  heard,  my  lord  ?  How 
stand  I  with  his  Majesty?  Have  I  overrated  my  influence 
with  him  ? ' ' 

*' Not  a  jot,"  replied  Dorset.     "You  stand  so  well  with 


Chap,  yi]  A  DIFFERENCE  ADJUSTED  125 

your  royal  nephew,  that  it  will  be  your  own  fault  if  you  be  not 
the  first  peer  of  the  realm." 

"What!  do  you  place  me  above  the  lord  protector?" 
cried  Seymour.  **  Bethink  you  that  the  council  have  given 
him  all  the  power.'* 

*'  I  am  not  unmindful  of  it,**  replied  the  marquis ;  "but 
you  have  the  king  on  your  side,  and  unless  the  lord  protector 
contrives  to  wean  his  Highness' s  love  from  you,  you  must  ere 
long  gain  the  ascendancy.** 

"You  are  in  the  right,  my  Lord  of  Dorset,**  said  Sey- 
mour ;  "I  shall  both  gain  it  and  maintain  it.  And  as  I  rise, 
others  shall  rise  with  me — that  you  may  reckon  on.  A  thought 
crossed  me  while  listening  to  yon  pretty  pair,  and  I  will  make 
you  privy  to  it.  They  seem  made  for  each  other.  Why 
should  they  not  be  wedded  when  they  arrive  at  a  suitable 
age?'* 

"  Even  if  I  dared  indulge  the  thought,**  replied  the  mar- 
quis, evidently  well  pleased  by  the  suggestion,  though  striving 
to  appear  unconcerned,  "his  Majesty's  extreme  youth  and 
my  daughter's  tender  years  forbid  it." 

"What  is  to  hinder  their  affiancement?**  rejoined  Sey- 
mour. "  The  alliance  may  be  brought  about,  I  tell  you,  my 
lord.  Nay,  to  be  plain,  it  shall  be  brought  about,  if  we  fairly 
understand  one  another. '  * 

"  Nay,  good  Sir  Thomas,  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  do, 
if  I  felt  sure  my  daughter  would  be  queen ;  and  I  will  own  to 
you,  since  you  put  it  to  me  thus,  that  my  lady  marchioness 
hath  broached  the  matter  to  me.  Women  will  talk  idly,  as 
you  wist.  After  all,  the  match  would  not  be  unsuitable,  see- 
ing that  the  Lady  Jane  herself  is  of  the  blood-royal." 

"The  match  can  be  made,  and  shall  be  made,  I  repeat, 
my  Lord  Marquis,"  said  Seymour;  "but  I  must  have  the 
disposal  of  your  daughter's  hand.  My  plans  must  not  be  in- 
terfered with.  You  must  commit  the  Lady  Jane  entirely  to 
my  charge." 


126  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

"To  your  charge,  Sir  Thomas?"  exclaimed  the  marquis, 
greatly  surprised. 

'* To  mine,"  rejoined  Seymour — "that  is,  to  the  charge 
of  my  wife,  when  I  get  one.  I  design  to  marry  ere  long,  my 
lord,  and  then  I  shall  be  able  to  receive  your  daughter. ' ' 

"Accept  my  congratulations.  Sir  Thomas,"  said  Dorset, 
"  I  doubt  not  that  your  choice  hath  been  well  made;  nay, 
if  it  hath  lighted  on  the  very  highest,  it  would  not  amaze 
me." 

"  I  cannot  let  you  into  the  secret  as  yet,  my  lord,"  replied 
Seymour,  smiling ;  "  but  thus  much  I  will  tell  you.  My  mar- 
riage will  assuredly  not  diminish  my  influence  with  my  royal 
nephew  or  with  the  nobility.  My  rule,  as  you  wot,  is  to 
make  no  step  save  in  advance.  You  will  hold  it  no  discredit, 
but  the  reverse,  to  commit  your  daughter  to  the  charge 
of  her  who  may,  perchance,  condescend  to  take  me  for  a 
husband. ' ' 

"  Methinks  I  can  read  your  riddle.  Sir  Thomas,  but  I  will 
not  try,"  observed  Dorset.  "Enough,  that  you  have  con- 
vinced me.  Have  I  your  permission  to  consult  the  mar- 
chioness on  this  important  matter  ? '  * 

"  Not  as  yet,  my  lord,"  rejoined  Seymour.  "  Women  are 
ill  at  keeping  a  secret;  and  though  my  lady  marchioness 
be  the  discreetest  of  her  sex,  yet  hath  she,  I  doubt  not,  a 
certain  proneness  to  talk,  given  her  by  nature,  which  would 
render  her  an  unfit  depositary  of  a  matter  of  this  moment. 
Till  all  be  settled,  I  must  enjoin  profound  secrecy.  I  will 
give  you  a  hint  when  to  speak.  Till  then,  let  a  seal  be 
placed  upon  your  lipSo  But  see  !  the  king  and  the  Lady  Jane 
are  entering  the  gallery.  Let  us  hasten  to  pay  our  devoirs  to 
his  Majesty." 

The  undisguised  delight  manifested  by  the  young  king 
on  seeing  his  favorite  uncle  would  have  satisfied  the  Marquis 
of  Dorset  of  the  place  held  by  Seymour  in  his  royal  nephew's 
aff'ections,  if  the  conversation  he  had  just  overheard  in  the 


Chap.  K/]  A  DIFFERENCE  ADJUSTED  127 

garden  had  left  that  cautious  nobleman  any  doubt  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

Hearing  quick  footsteps  behind  him,  Edward  turned  to 
ascertain  whence  they  proceeded,  and  the  instant  he  beheld 
Sir  Thomas,  he  quitted  the  Lady  Jane's  hand,  which  he  had 
hitherto  retained,  and  disregarding  all  ceremony — perhaps 
even  forgetting  in  the  impulse  of  the  moment  that  ceremony 
was  needful — he  flew  to  meet  his  uncle,  and  without  allowing 
him  time  to  make  any  obeisance,  or  utter  a  word  of  remon- 
strance, he  sprang  towards  him,  and  threw  his  arms  affection- 
ately round  his  neck. 

Never,  perhaps,  did  that  ambitious  man*s  heart  beat  higher 
than  when  he  returned  his  royal  nephew's  fond  embrace. 
He  felt  the  effect  produced  by  the  demonstration  on  Dorset 
and  his  daughter,  and  though  scarcely  able  to  repress  his 
exultation,  he  feigned  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the  king*s  con- 
descension. 

*'  Your  Majesty  honors  me  far  too  much, ' '  he  said.  '*  Near 
as  I  am  to  you  by  relationship,  dear  as  you  are  to  me  as 
a  nephew,  I  am  bound  to  remind  you  that  the  distance 
between  us  is  much  greater  than  it  was,  and  that  the  marks  of 
affection  which  you  have  been  accustomed  to  lavish  upon  me, 
and  for  which  I  shall  ever  feel  proud  and  grateful,  ought  now, 
by  right,  to  be  discontinued. ' ' 

'*Whyso,  gentle  uncle?"  rejoined  Edward.  "You  do 
not  love  me  less  because  I  am  king,  do  you  ?  Certes,  my  love 
for  you  is  not  diminished  by  the  circumstance.  Wherefore 
should  I  put  a  mask  upon  my  regard  ?  Rather  let  me  rejoice 
that  I  am  now  better  able  to  prove  its  strength.*' 

**I  want  words  to  thank  your  Highness,"  said  Seymour, 
with  every  appearance  of  the  most  fervent  gratitude;  '*but 
the  preference  for  me,  which  you  so  graciously  exhibit,  will,  I 
fear,  be  distasteful  to  your  new  governor,  who  will  expect  you 
to  reserve  all  your  affection  for  him." 

"I  see  not  why  he  should;    but  if  he  does,  he  will  be 


128  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

disappointed,"  rejoined  Edward.  ''I  may  show  him  obedi- 
ence, but  I  am  not  bound  to  give  him  the  first  place  in 
my  regard.  I  shall  never  love  him  so  well  as  you,  gentle 
uncle;  that  I  can  promise  him.  I  have  not  yet  had  an 
opportunity  of  telling  you  how  much  my  satisfaction  was 
marred  yesterday  by  learning  that  the  council  had  not  chosen 
you  as  my  governor.  Meseems  I  ought  to  have  been  con- 
sulted on  the  matter." 

**  Had  your  Grace  loved  me  less,  or  had  I  been  less  deserv- 
ing of  your  love,  because  not  so  entirely  devoted  to  you  as  I 
am,  the  council  might — ^nay,  would — have  chosen  me.  But 
your  uncle  Hertford  viewed  me  with  a  jealous  eye,  and  the 
council  were  governed  by  his  opinion. '  * 

*  *  So  I  guessed, ' '  replied  the  king.  **  My  Lord  of  Hertford 
has  gone  too  far.  He  will  gain  nothing  by  his  opposition 
to  my  expressed  desires.  He  knew  full  well  whither  my  incli- 
nations tended." 

''And  therefore  'twas  he  thwarted  them,"  rejoined  Sey- 
mour. "  Your  Highness  must  dissemble  your  regard  for  me, 
if  you  would  keep  peace  between  me  and  the  lord  pro- 
tector." 

"I  hate  dissimulation,"  said  Edward,  "and  'twill  be  hard 
to  practise  it.  Yet  I  will  try  to  do  so  to  prevent  all  chance 
of  difference  bet^vixt  you  and  my  Lord  of  Hertford,  which 
would  be  greatly  to  be  deplored. 

**  May  it  please  your  Grace,  his  highness  the  lord  protector 
comes  this  way,"  said  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  stepping  for- 
ward. 

As  he  spoke,  the  Earl  of  Hertford  was  seen  advancing  from 
the  corridor,  already  described  as  communicating  with  the 
state  apartments  of  the  palace.  From  the  magnificence  of 
his  apparel,  and  the  splendor  of  his  train,  the  lord  protector 
would  appear  to  have  assumed  a  perfectly  regal  state.  Pre- 
ceded by  a  gentleman  usher,  and  followed  by  a  throng  of  es- 
quires, henchmen,  and  pages,  in  superb  habiliments,  he  was 


Chap.  A^/]  A  DIFFERENCE  ADJUSTED  129 

accompanied  by  the  Constable  of  the  Tower  and  Lord  Lisle. 
His  deportment  was  haughtier  than  it  used  to  be,  and  now 
that  he  felt  secure  of  his  position,  he  seemed  determined  to 
assert  his  importance  to  the  full. 

**  On  my  fay  !'*  exclaimed  Edward,  '*  my  uncle  bears  him 
bravely.  One  would  think  he  were  king  and  not  lord  pro- 
tector." 

'*  Lord  protector  is  only  another  name  for  king,  your  High- 
ness," observed  Seymour,  dryly. 

**  Stay  with  me,  gentle  uncle,"  said  Edward.  **  His  high- 
ness looks  angry.     I  hope  he  will  not  chide  me. " 

* '  Chide  you,  my  liege !  '  *  exclaimed  Seymour,  almost 
fiercely.     "  He  will  not  dare  !" 

**  I  am  not  so  sure  of  it,"  rejoined  Edward.  '*  But  stand 
nigh  me,  and  then  I  shall  not  heed  him." 

**I  do  not  quit  your  person  without  your  Majesty's  com- 
mands," answered  Seymour. 

As  he  drew  nearer,  it  was  evident  that  the  lord  protector 
was  much  chafed,  and  unable  to  conceal  his  displeasure.  Sir 
John  Gage  addressed  some  observations  to  him,  to  which 
he  made  a  very  brief  reply,  keeping  his  eye  all  the  while 
intently  fixed  upon  the  king  and  Sir  Thomas.  The  latter 
hoped  there  might  be  an  explosion  of  rage  on  the  part  of 
his  brother,  by  which  he  could  not  fail  to  profit,  but  Hert- 
ford was  too  wary  to  damage  himself  by  any  such  display  of 
passion. 

Making  way  for  the  lord  protector  and  his  train,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Dorset  and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  stationed  themselves 
near  Edward,  while  the  luckless  Fowler,  who  had  not  yet 
been  dismissed,  remained  standing  behind  the  young  mon- 
arch. Sir  Thomas  Seymour  did  not  move  from  his  royal 
nephew's  side,  but  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  as  if 
prepared  for  the  encounter. 

Arrived  at  the  proper  distance  from  the  king  prescribed  by 
court  forms,  the  Constable  of  the  Tower  and  Lord  Lisle  came 
9 


130  THE  CONST/IBLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  [Booh  I 

to  a  halt ;  but  the  lord  protector  stepped  forward,  and  after  a 
profound  salutation,  which  was  courteously  returned  by  his 
royal  ward  and  nephew,  said,  with  forced  composure,  '*  I 
have  just  been  to  your  Grace's  chamber,  and  it  greatly  sur- 
prised me  to  learn  from  your  chaplain  that  you  had  gone 
forth,  nearly  an  hour  ago,  almost  unattended,  to  walk  and 
read  within  the  privy  garden.  Permit  me  to  observe  to  your 
highness  that  such  a  proceeding,  not  being  altogether  in  ac- 
cordance with  princely  decorum  and  needful  self-restraint,  it 
will  be  incumbent  upon  you,  henceforth,  to  keep  your  room 
until  I  am  able  to  wait  upon  you,  when  I  will  decide  how  it 
is  meet  your  Majesty  should  go  forth,  and  whither. ' ' 

*'By  Heaven  !  he  will  have  your  Grace  in  leading-strings 
next,"  muttered  Seymour. 

''Does  your  Highness  mean  to  deny  me  all  freedom  of 
action?"  cried  Edward,  somewhat  sharply.  '*May  I  not 
walk  forth  at  any  hour  I  please — especially  when  disengaged  ? 
If  so,  I  had  better  be  back  at  Hertford  than  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower." 

''Far  be  it  from  me  to  place  any  restraint  upon  your  High- 
ness's  movements,  ' '  rejoined  the  lord  protector  ;  "and  if  it  be 
your  pleasure  to  walk  forth  early,  you  shall  have  no  inter- 
ference from  me.  Only  I  must  give  directions  that  you  be 
properly  attended,  and  that  no  one, ' '  and  he  glanced  men- 
acingly at  his  brother — "be  allowed  to  approach  you  without 
my  consent." 

"No  one  has  approached  me  except  my  cousin,  the  Lady 
Jane  Grey,  and  my  uncle.  Sir  Thomas, ' '  rejoined  the  king. 
"Fowler  will  explain  all  to  your  Highness,  if  you  question 
him." 

"That  will  I,"  replied  the  gentleman  of  the  privy-cham- 
ber, advancing  a  few  steps,  and  bowing  profoundly.  "The 
Lady  Jane  Grey  came  forth  to  read  in  the  garden,  and  there 
encountered  his  highness,  who  was  similarly  engaged.  -  It 
would  have  done  your  Highness  good  to  see  how  little  those 


Chap,  yi'\  A  DIFFERENCE  ADJUSTED  131 

two  exalted  personages  heeded  the  cold,  though  I  was  half- 
perished  by  it. ' ' 

'*  What  makes  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  abroad  so  early?  "  de- 
manded the  lord  protector,  bending  his  brows  upon  Dorset. 
"You  should  keep  her  within  her  chamber,  my  lord.  The 
privy  garden  is  for  the  king's  sole  use,  and  none  but  he  may 
enter  it." 

'*  I  am  well  aware  of  that,  your  Highness,"  replied  the 
marquis.  "  I  knew  not  that  my  daughter  had  so  trespassed, 
and  am  sorry  for  it.  Bear  in  mind  what  the  lord  protector 
has  said,  Jane. ' ' 

'*  Doubt  it  not,"  she  replied,  meekly.  **  I  am  not  likely 
to  forget  the  reproof  administered  by  his  highness ;  but  it  was 
in  ignorance  that  I  offended." 

"  You  will  walk  in  the  privy  garden  whenever  you  list,  Jane, 
so  long  as  you  remain  in  the  Tower, ' '  said  Edward,  taking  her 
hand.  **  I,  the  king,  give  you  permission — let  who  will  say 
you  nay.  You  need  not  fear  disturbing  me,  for  I  shall  go 
there  no  more." 

The  lord  protector  bit  his  lips,  and  looked  perplexed ;  but 
perceiving  that  his  brother  was  enjoying  his  confusion,  he 
turned  his  rage  against  him. 

'*  How  is  it  that  I  find  you  with  the  king,  sir?"  he  de- 
manded, sharply. 

'*  Because  I  chance  to  be  with  his  highness  when  you  seek 
me,  brother.  I  know  no  better  reason,"  replied  Seymour, 
coolly. 

*'  I  do  not  seek  you,  but  I  find  you  where  I  would  not  have 
you,"  rejoined  Hertford,  sternly.  **Take  heed,  sir.  As 
governor  of  the  king's  person,  it  is  for  me,  and  for  me  alone, 
to  decide  who  is  fit,  or  unfit,  to  approach  him.  I  do  not 
deem  you  a  judicious  counsellor,  and  therefcwe  forbid  you  to 
come  nigh  his  grace  without  my  sanction. ' ' 

The  only  answer  vouchsafed  by  Seymour  was  a  disdainful 
smile. 


132  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  iBookl 

Still  more  enraged,  the  lord  protector  went  on:  "After 
this  warning,  if  you  seek  by  any  indirect  means  to  obtain  an 
interview  with  his  highness,  I  will  have  you  before  the  council, 
to  whom  you  shall  answer  for  your  disobedience  to  my  man- 
dates." 

Seymour  glanced  at  his  royal  nephew,  whose  spirit  being 
now  roused,  he  promptly  responded  to  the  appeal. 

"Your  Highness  is  mistaken,"  said  Edward,  addressing 
the  lord  protector  with  great  firmness :  *'  my  entirely -beloved 
uncle  Sir  Thomas  always  gives  me  the  best  advice,  and  such 
as  your  Grace  and  the  council  must  approve,  if  you  were 
made  acquainted  with  it.  I  will  not  be  debarred  of  his  so- 
ciety. Tell  the  council  so.  Nay,  I  will  tell  them  so  myself 
if  needed." 

* '  There  are  some  of  the  council  now  present,  who  will  doubt- 
less report  to  their  colleagues  what  your  Highness  has  de- 
clared," said  Seymour,  glancing  at  the  Constable  of  the 
Tower  and  Lord  Lisle. 

"Assuredly  the  council  will  take  the  matter  into  immediate 
consideration,  if  his  majesty  shall  express  any  such  desire," 
said  Sir  John  Gage;  "but  bound  as  they  are  to  uphold  the 
authority  of  him  they  have  appointed  governor  to  his  grace, 
I  can  little  doubt  their  decision.  I  trust,  however,  that  his 
highness  the  lord  protector,  in  his  wisdom  and  discretion, 
will  withdraw  the  interdict  he  hath  imposed  on  his  brother  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour — the  rather  that  it  seems  to  me  harsh  and 
uncalled  for,  and  liable  to  censure. ' ' 

"  I  am  of  the  same  opinion  with  yourself.  Sir  John,"  said 
Lord  Lisle.  "  If  this  interdict  is  bruited  abroad,  it  will  be 
said,  and  with  apparent  reason,  that  there  is  little  brotherly 
amity  between  his  majesty's  uncles." 

"  I  would  not  have  that  said,  since  it  is  not  the  truth — at 
least,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  rejoined  Hertford.  "I 
therefore  yield  to  your  advice,  Sir  John  Gage,  which  is  ever 
judicious  as  honest,  and  leave  my  brother  free  intercourse,  as 


Chap,  r//]      THE  QUEEN-DOIV ACER'S  AFFRONT  133 

heretofore,  with  my  royal  ward,  only  cautioning  him  not  to 
put  into  his  majesty's  head  a  misliking  of  the  government  of 
the  realm,  or  of  my  doings,  so  as  to  deprive  my  authority 
of  its  weight,  and  my  counsels  of  their  proper  effect. ' ' 

"That  I  will  promise  for  Sir  Thomas,**  said  Edward. 
'*  May  I  not,  gentle  uncle  ?  ** 

"Indeed  you  may,  my  gracious  liege,**  replied  Seymour. 
'*  I  will  instil  nothing  into  your  mind  but  what  is  right  and  just, 
and  any  influence  I  maypossess  with  your  Highness,  will  ever  be 
directed  towards  preparing  you  for  the  exercise  of  the  power 
you  are  one  day  fully  to  assume.  Such  conduct  the  council 
and  his  highness  the  lord  protector  cannot  fail  to  approve. ' ' 

"I  am  heartily  glad  you  are  reconciled,  my  good  uncles 
both/*  said  Edward,  looking  from  one  to  the  other,  "and  I 
trust  no  further  differences  will  arise  between  you  on  my 
account,  or  any  other.** 


CHAPTER  VII 


OF  THE  AFFRONT  OFFERED  BY  QUEEN  CATHERINE  PARR 
TO  THE  COUNTESS  OF  HERTFORD;  AND  HOIV  UGO 
HARRINGTON  IVAS  SENT  TO  CONDUCT  THE  PRINCESS 
ELIZABETH  TO  THE   TOURER 

The  reconciliation  between  the  two  Seymours  was  so  evi- 
dently hollow,  that  it  imposed  on  no  one — not  even  upon 
their  royal  nephew.  The  arrogant  and  domineering  tone 
suddenly  adopted  by  the  lord  protector  towards  his  brother 
would  scarcely  have  been  brooked  by  Sir  Thomas,  even  if  his 
nature  had  been  less  fiery ;  while  the  haughty  and  insolent 
manner  of  the  younger  Seymour  was  equally  intolerable  to 
Hertford,  who  now  seemed  to  expect  the  submission  ordi- 
narily paid  to  the  will  of  a  sovereign.     Instead  of  being 


134  THE  COhlSTABLE  OF  THE   TOW^K  {Book  I 

allayed  therefore,  their  animosity  was  merely  masked,  and 
threatened  a  fresh  and  more  decided  outbreak. 

Though  quite  aware  how  matters  stood  with  his  uncles,  the 
amiable  young  monarch  fondly  persuaded  himself  he  could 
keep  peace  between  them ;  but  besides  having  to  deal  with 
impracticable  subjects,  he  himself  unwittingly  heightened  the 
discord.  From  the  ingenuousness  of  his  nature,  and  from  his 
extremely  affectionate  disposition,  he  was  utterly  unable  to 
disguise  the  preference  he  felt  for  his  younger  uncle,  and  in- 
stead of  soothing  the  lord  protector's  irritation,  he  still  fur* 
ther  exasperated  him  against  one  whom  he  was  unable  to 
regard  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  dangerous  rival.  Al- 
ready Hertford  had  resolved  to  remove  his  brother,  as  soon 
as  opportunity  offered  :  already  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  had  de- 
termined, at  any  cost,  to  supplant  the  lord  protector. 

Another  grand  banquet  was  given  that  day,  to  which  the 
young  king,  with  the  lord  protector,  the  council,  and  all  the 
nobles,  knights,  and  ladies  within  the  Tower,  sat  down.  It 
was  served  with  all  the  profusion  and  state  of  the  times.  A 
long  grace  in  Latin  was  delivered  by  the  Tower  chaplain, 
both  before  and  after  the  meal,  to  which  Edward  listened  with 
devout  attention,  distinctly  pronouncing  the  word  "Amen," 
on  both  occasions,  at  the  close  of  the  prayer.  The  young  king 
would  willingly  have  dispensed  with  the  services  of  the 
numerous  marshals  and  ushers,  the  officious  cup-bearers  and 
other  officers  of  the  table,  but  he  endured  their  attendance 
with  a  very  good  grace.  Excessively  temperate  in  his  habits, 
Edward  drank  nothing  stronger  than  water,  and  did  but 
scanty  justice  to  the  good  cheer  provided  for  him  by  the  clerk 
of  the  kitchen. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  feast,  a  trifling  incident 
occurred  which  somewhat  marred  the  harmony  of  the  pro- 
ceedings, and  gave  the  lord  protector  new  ground  of  offence 
against  his'  brother.  The  Countess  of  Hertford,  a  very  beau- 
tiful and  exceedingly  proud  woman,  had  fancied  herself  slighted 


Chap,  VUl      THE  QUEEN-DOIV ACER'S  AFFRONT  135 

at  the  banquet  on  the  preceding  day  by  the  queen-dowager, 
of  whom,  in  consequence  of  her  husband's  elevation  to  almost 
regal  state,  she  thought  herself  entitled  to  take  precedence. 
She  therefore  persuaded  her  husband,  who  was  greatly  under 
her  governance,  to  assign  her  a  seat  near  the  king  at  the  next 
banquet.  The  lord  protector  gave  the  requisite  instructions 
to  the  chief  usher,  and  the  matter  appeared  to  be  arranged  ; 
but  before  Lady  Hertford  could  occupy  the  coveted  position, 
the  queen-dowager  appeared,  and  haughtily  declining  the  seat 
offered  her  by  the  usher,  took  her  customary  place  beside  the 
king.  In  the  execution  of  this  step  she  was  aided  by  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  who  prevented  his  sister-in-law  from  sitting 
down,  and  ceremoniously  ushered  the  queen  to  her  chair.  If 
the  affront  to  Lady  Hertford  on  the  previous  night  had  been 
undesigned  on  the  queen's  part,  the  same  excuse  could  not  be 
offered  for  her  majesty's  behavior  on  this  occasion.  She  was 
pointedly  rude  to  the  countess,  and  made  several  cutting  re- 
marks on  the  lord  protector,  which  he  was  unable  to  resent. 
Additional  effect  was  given  these  sarcasms  by  Sir  Thomas  Sey- 
mour, who  remained  standing  behind  the  queen's  chair  for 
some  time  to  enjoy  his  sister-in-law's  discomfiture,  and  ex- 
erted all  his  great  powers  of  wit  and  raillery  to  lend  force  and 
pungency  to  her  majesty's  observations.  Lady  Hertford  was 
even  more  mortified  than  her  husband,  but  her  indignation 
was  chiefly  directed  against  the  queen,  on  whom  she  resolved 
to  be  revenged  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  She  also  inter- 
nally resolved  to  call  the  lord  protector  to  task  for  not  suffi- 
ciently asserting  his  dignity  and  her  own.  As  to  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  the  position  he  had  taken  up  enabled  him  to  divide 
his  attention  between  the  queen-dowager  and  his  royal  neph- 
ew, and  he  performed  his  part  so  adroitly  as  to  delight  both. 
The  youthful  Lady  Jane  Grey  occupied  a  seat  at  the  royal 
board  next  to  her  father,  and  not  so  far  removed  from 
Edward  but  that  he  was  able,  occasionally,  to  exchange  a 
word  with  her.     Jane  ate  as  little  as  the  abstemious  young 


136  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book! 

monarch  himself,  a  point  of  resemblance  between  them  not 
unnoticed  by  Seymour,  who  called  the  queen-dowager's  atten- 
tion to  the  circumstance.  Catherine  appeared  greatly  pleased 
with  the  young  maiden,  and,  when  the  repast  was  ended, 
called  her  to  her,  bidding  her  come  with  her  to  her  private 
apartments,  and  adding  graciously  that  she  had  heard  much  of 
her,  and  desired  to  know  her  better.  The  invitation  was 
equally  agreeable  to  Jane  and  to  the  Marquis  of  Dorset, 
though  the  latter  fancied  he  could  tell  by  whom  it  had  been 
prompted. 

As  the  king  was  quitting  the  banqueting  chamber  with  the 
lord  protector,  he  expressed  a  desire  that  his  sister  Elizabeth 
should  be  sent  for  to  the  Tower;  and  furthermore  that  his 
two  preceptors.  Sir  John  Cheke  and  Doctor  Cox,  should 
accompany  the  princess.  Though  the  request  did  not  seem 
to  be  relished  by  his  uncle,  he  made  no  objections  to  it ;  and 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  who  was  evidently  delighted  by  the 
notion,  volunteered  to  go  to  Hertford  for  the  princess.  This 
proposal,  however,  was  peremptorily  rejected  by  the  lord  pro- 
tector, but  he  at  length  agreed  that  his  brother's  esquire,  Ugo 
Harrington,  should  be  despatched  on  the  errand  with  a  suffi- 
cient escort 

*'  I  will  go  seek  Ugo,**  cried  Seymour,  as  soon  as  his 
brother's  consent  had  been  obtained,  **and  despatch  him  at 
once  to  Hertford." 

A  grateful  look  from  his  royal  nephew  thanked  him  for  his 
zeal. 

But  his  haste  to  depart  seemed  to  surprise  and  displease 
the  queen-dowager,  for  she  called  out  to  him  somewhat 
sharply,  **  Whither  so  fast.  Sir  Thomas?  Methinks  I  have 
not  yet  dismissed  you,  and  I  counted  upon  your  attendance 
for  some  little  while  longer." 

"I  pray  you  have  me  excused,  gracious  madam,"  he 
replied,  in  a  deeply  deferential  tone.  *'  I  have  his  majesty's 
commands  to  send  off  an  escort  to  bring  the  Princess  Elizabeth 


Chap,  yil]      THE  QUEEN-DOIV ACER'S  AFFRONT  137 

from  Hertford.  As  soon  as  I  have  executed  my  commission 
I  will  return." 

**  Is  Elizabeth  coming  to  the  Tower  ? '  *  inquired  Catherine, 
with  a  look  of  annoyance. 

"Ay,  madam,"  answered  Edward.  '*  The  lord  protector 
has  kindly  yielded  to  my  desire  to  have  my  sister  near  me.  * ' 

"I  do  not  altogether  approve  of  her  highness* s  com- 
ing," observed  Hertford;  **but  I  cannot  say  *nay'  to  your 
Majesty." 

While  this  was  going  on,  Seymour  made  a  profound  rever- 
ence to  the  king,  bowed  with  equal  respect  to  Catherine 
— contriving  at  the  same  time  to  direct  a  very  devoted  glance 
towards  her — and  departed. 

Making  his  way  as  quickly  as  he  could  through  the  crowd 
of  gentlemen  ushers,  henchmen,  grooms  of  the  chamber, 
yeomen  of  the  guard,  and  others  that  beset  the  corridors  and 
passages  which  he  traversed,  he  at  last  reached  the  apartments 
assigned  to  him  in  the  Wardrobe  Tower ;  a  structure  at  that 
time  connected  with  a  portion  of  the  palace  known  as  the 
"  King's  Lodgings."  On  entering  a  circular  stone  chamber, 
garnished  with  arras,  and  so  richly  furnished  that  its  original 
dungeon-like  look  was  completely  changed,  Seymour  found 
the  person  of  whom  he  was  in  quest  seated  beside  a  table,  on 
which  a  flask  of  wine  and  a  silver  goblet  were  placed.  He 
was  singing  an  Italian  canzonet  with  much  taste  and  execution, 
his  voice  being  a  very  fine  tenor,  and  accompanying  himself 
on  a  cittern.  On  seeing  his  patron,  he  instantly  discontinued 
his  song,  laid  down  the  instrument,  and  arose. 

Tall  and  gallant -looking,  Ugo  Harrington  might  have  been 
considered  very  handsome,  had  not  a  sinister  expression  de- 
tracted materially  from  his  good  looks.  His  age  was  some- 
what under  thirty.  His  frame  was  slight  but  very  muscular, 
his  complexion  olive,  his  eyes  dark  and  quick,  his  teeth  beau- 
tifully even  and  white,  and  in  strong  contrast  with  his  short, 
silky,   raven-black  moustaches  and  beard.     His  looks  were 


138  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Booh  I 

more  those  of  an  Italian  than  an  Englishman;  and  indeed 
his  mother  was  a  Florentine,  while  he  himself  had  passed 
most  of  his  youth  in  the  Tuscan  capital  and  Rome.  He 
was  richly  attired  in  a  doublet  of  russet  velvet,  with  hose  to 
match,  and  a  furred  velvet  mantle  was  lying  beside  him,  ready 
to  be  put  on  when  he  went  forth.  On  the  mantle  were  laid 
a  long  rapier  and  a  poniard,  both  forming  part  of  the  gallant 
esquire's  ordinary  equipments. 

Respectfully  saluting  Sir  Thomas,  he  waited  till  the  latter  had 
hastily  explained  his  business  to  him,  and  then  declaring  he 
was  ready  to  proceed  on  the  errand  at  once,  inquired  if  his 
patron  had  any  further  commands. 

**Thou  shalt  take  a  short  missive  from  me  to  the  princess, 
Ugo,**  replied  Sir  Thomas.  *'  Thou  canst  make  such  prepara- 
tions for  the  journey  as  are  needful  while  I  prepare  it." 

Signifying  his  ready  assent,  the  esquire  retired  to  an  inner 
chamber,  while  Seymour  sat  down  at  a  table  on  which  writing 
materials  were  placed,  and  commenced  the  letter. 

Apparently,  what  he  wrote  did  not  satisfy  him,  for,  on  read- 
ing it,  he  tore  up  the  paper,  and  threw  it  into  a  wood  fire, 
which  was  blazing  cheerily  on  the  hearth.  He  then  began 
anew,  but  the  second  letter  pleased  him  no  better  than  the 
first,  and  was  likewise  consigned  to  the  flames.  The  third 
essay  proved  more  successful.  Glancing  over  the  note  with  a 
complacent  smile,  he  muttered,  "Methinks  this  will  do!" 
and  then  placed  it  in  a  cover,  secured  the  tender  despatch 
with  a  silken  thread,  and  sealed  it  with  his  signet  ring. 

While  he  was  writing  the  third  letter,  his  esquire,  habited 
for  the  journey,  returned  to  the  room,  but  remained  standing 
at  a  respectful  distance,  watching  him  with  a  very  singular 
expression  of  countenance. 

"  Deliver  this  into  the  princess's  own  hands,  Ugo,  at  a  con- 
venient opportunity.  Thou  understandest  ? — ^ha  !"  said  Sey- 
mour, giving  him  the  missive. 

'*  Perfettamente,  monsignore,"  replied  Harrington.    '*  But 


Chap.  yW]      THE  QUEEN-DOIV ACER'S  AFFRONT  139 

I  confess  I  did  not  expect  to  be  the  bearer  of  a  biglietto 
amoroso  at  this  moment,  when  I  had  reason  to  believe  your 
lordship  to  be  on  the  brink  of  an  engagement  in  another 
quarter. '  * 

"Thy  conclusion  that  it  is  a  billet  d' amour  with  which  I 
have  charged  thee  is  altogether  erroneous,  Ugo,'*  said  Sey- 
mour, with  a  smile.  **I  have  merely  indicted  a  few  words 
of  good  counsel  to  the  princess,  which  I  think  she  ought  to 
receive  before  she  arrives  at  the  Tower.  Presume  not  too 
much  on  my  familiarity  towards  thee,  amico,  and,  above  all, 
never  seek  to  penetrate  my  secrets.  Be  content  to  act  as  I 
direct  thee,  without  inquiring  into  the  motive.  The  time  will 
come  when  thou  wilt  be  well  rewarded  for  any  services  thou 
mayst  render  me  now. '  * 

**  Per  Sant*  Antonio  !  I  am  sufficiently  rewarded  already," 
rejoined  Harrington.  "You  have  been  a  most  munificent 
patron  to  me,  monsignore. ' ' 

"  Nothing  to  what  I  will  be,  Ugo.  But  I  must  have  blind 
obedience  to  my  behests. ' ' 

"You  have  only  to  command,  monsignore.  But  I  would 
I  might  prevail  upon  you  to  abandon  this  dangerous  game,  in 
which,  I  fear  me  much,  you  will  fail ;  while  you  will  assuredly 
jeopardize  that  of  which  you  are  at  present  secure.  It  seems 
to  me  a  vain  pursuit — gettare  la  sustenza  e  prendere  I'ombra. ' ' 

"  I  am  resolved  to  risk  it,"  cried  Seymour,  "be  the  con- 
sequences what  they  may.  To  speak  truth,  Ugo,  I  am  so 
madly  in  love  with  the  charming  princess  that  I  cannot  en- 
dure the  thought  of  yoking  myself  to  another.' ' 

"Your  lordship  was  wont  to  be  more  prudent,"  observed 
the  esquire,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  E  perchd  questa  subita 
mutazione  ? — Una  pollastrina  non  ancora  buena  per  la  tavola. '  * 

"  Hold  thy  ribald  tongue  !"  cried  Seymour.  "  My  passion 
may  overmaster  my  reason.  But  setting  aside  my  uncontroll- 
able love  for  the  princess,  which  would  carry  me  to  any 
lengths,  however  desperate,  she  is  a  far  richer  prize  than  the 


I40  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Booh  I 

Other.  Possession  of  her  hand  would  place  me  near  the 
throne.'* 

**  You  are  irresistible,  monsignore — that  I  well  know — and 
the  princess,  like  any  other  donzella,  will  no  doubt  accept  you. 
But  that  will  avail  you  little.  The  council  will  never  sanction 
the  match,  and  by  the  late  king's  will  their  consent  must  be 
obtained. ' ' 

'*Thou  prat* St  in  vain,  Harrington.  I  am  immovable. 
Let  me  win  the  princess's  consent,  and  all  the  rest  will  follow. 
And,  by  my  halidame  I  I  shall  win  it. '  * 

**  To  resolve  to  win,  is  to  be  sure  to  win,  monsignore.  I 
am  all  obedience.  Not  only  shall  this  letter  be  delivered 
with  the  utmost  discretion  to  the  adorable  princess  with  the 
tresses  of  gold,  which  seem  to  have  ensnared  your  lordship, 
and  which  I  must  needs  own  are  most  ravishingly  beautiful, 
but  I  will  lose  no  opportunity  of  sounding  your  praises  in 
her  ear. '  * 

**  Note  her  slightest  word  and  look  when  thou  speakest  of 
me,  Ugo,  and  report  them. ' ' 

"You  shall  have  every  blush,  every  downcast  look,  every 
half-sigh  of  the  divinity  faithfully  rendered,  monsignore. 
'Tis  a  pity  I  cannot  take  my  cittern  with  me,  or  I  might  sing 
her  a  love-strain  which  could  not  fail  to  move  her.  Luckily, 
the  enchanting  princess  speaks  Italian  fluently,  and  if  she  will 
only  encourage  me,  I  will  converse  with  her  in  that  language 
of  love,  and  then  I  shall  be  able  to  say  more  than  I  should 
dare  utter  in  our  rude  northern  tongue." 

"Go,  then,  and  success  go  with  thee!'*  cried  Seymour. 
**  Thou  must  reach  Hertford  with  the  escort  to-night,  and  set 
forth  on  thy  return  at  as  early  an  hour  to-morrow  as  may  suit 
the  princess.  Remember,  her  Highness*  s  governess.  Mistress 
Catherine  Ashley,  and  the  king's  preceptors  are  to  come  with 
thee,  and  make  it  thy  business  to  stir  up  the  two  learned 
drones,  that  they  occasion  thee  no  needless  delay.** 

**  It  shall  be  done,  monsignore,"  replied  Harrington,  buck- 


Chap.  yUI'\       XIT  APPOINTED  KINGS  DIVARF  141 

ling  on  his  rapier,  and  attaching  the  poniard  to  his  girdle. 
Throwing  his  mantle  over  his  shoulder,  he  then  followed  his 
patron  out  of  the  chamber. 

An  escort  of  some  five-and-twenty  well-mounted  arque- 
busiers  was  quickly  provided  by  Seymour,  who  at  the  same 
time  ordered  his  own  charger  to  be  saddled  for  Harrington. 
All  being  soon  in  readiness,  the  gallant  esquire  crossed  the 
stone  bridge  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  rode  forth  from  the  Bul- 
wark Gate,  and  took  his  way  towards  Hertford,  accomplishing 
the  distance,  about  one-and-twenty  miles,  in  less  than  three 
hours,  which,  in  those  days,  and  in  the  winter  season,  was 
not  bad  travelling. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

HOW  XIT  IVAS  APPOINTED  THE  KING*S  DIVARF;  AND  HOW 
OG,  GOG,  AND  MAGOG  CRAVED  A  BOON  OF  THE  KING 

At  noon  on  the  day  following,  the  youthful  king,  with  the 
lord  protector,  and  all  the  members  of  the  upper  and  lower 
councils,  met  for  deliberation  within  the  great  council 
chamber  in  the  White  Tower.  Though  Edward  sat  in  a 
chair  of  state,  and  ostensibly  presided  over  the  assemblage,  it 
was  quite  evident  that  his  voice  had  little  weight,  and  that 
the  real  ruler  was  Hertford.  All  measures  were  proposed  by 
the  lord  protector — all  questions  settled  by  him.  As  a  matter 
of  form,  every  matter  deliberated  upon  by  the  council  was 
submitted  to  the  throne ;  but  the  king's  advice  was  so  asked, 
that  the  answer  could  only  be  given  in  the  way  desired  by  the 
lord  protector. 

Generally,  the  council  seemed  willing  to  act  as  Hertford 
desired,  with  the  exception  of  the  lord  chancellor ;  but  as  yet 


142  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  J 

he  had  merely  exhibited  a  few  symptoms  of  hostility,  no  mat- 
ter having  arisen  of  sufficient  importance  to  justify  decided 
opposition.  Slight  as  they  were,  these  indications  were  suffi- 
cient for  the  lord  protector,  and  he  resolved  to  be  beforehand 
with  his  opponent,  and  to  find  a  speedy  pretext  for  his  re- 
moval from  the  council. 

After  the  main  causes  had  been  determined,  two  other 
matters  were  brought  forward  by  the  lord  protector,  which, 
it  might  naturally  be  presumed,  would  be  of  especial  interest 
to  the  king — namely,  the  interment  of  his  late  royal  father, 
and  his  own  coronation.  The  former  ceremonial  was  ap- 
pointed to  take  place  in  the  chapel  of  Saint  George,  in 
Windsor  Castle,  on  Wednesday,  the  i6th  of  February;  while 
the  latter  was  fixed  for  February  the  20th,  the  Sunday  after  the 
funeral. 

Some  time  was  occupied  in  discussing  the  arrangements  of 
both  these  ceremonies.  Nothing  was  determined  upon  with 
regard  to  the  coronation,  save  that,  on  account  of  the  king's 
tender  years,  it  ought  to  be  materially  abridged,  while  several 
important  alterations  in  the  forms  were  proposed  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury — but  these  were  left  for  future  con- 
sideration. It  was  decided,  however,  that  Henry's  inter- 
ment should  be  conducted  upon  a  scale  of  unheard-of  magni- 
ficence, and  with  all  the  pomp  and  solemnity  befitting  so 
renowned  a  monarch.  This  design  was  to  be  fully  carried 
out,  if  even  the  exchequer  should  be  drained  by  the  cost. 

Edward  seemed  comparatively  indifferent  to  the  ordering 
of  the  solemn  act  that  was  to  place  the  crown  upon  his  brows, 
but  he  exhibited  marked  anxiety  that  the  utmost  respect 
should  be  paid  to  the  memory  of  his  mighty  father ;  and 
entirely  concurred  in  the  propriety  of  making  due  provision 
to  give  unwonted  solemnity  and  grandeur  to  his  interment. 
**As  my  father  was  the  noblest  and  greatest  of  kings  during 
his  life,"  he  said,  **so  it  is  meet  he  should  be  borne  more 
honorably  than  any  other  to  the  grave." 


Chap.  Flin       XIT  APPOINTED  KING*S  DIVARF  143 

Little  share  was  taken  in  these  deliberations  by  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  but  he  was  not  idle.  He  employed  his  time  in  the 
advancement  of  his  ulterior  designs,  and  strove  by  every 
means  in  his  power  to  ingratiate  himself  with  his  colleagues. 
Perceiving  the  covert  hostility  of  the  lord  chancellor,  he  made 
cautious  overtures  to  him,  but  these  were  haughtily  repelled 
by  Wriothesley,  who  showed  no  disposition  to  act  in  concert 
with  him. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  ill-feeling  subsisting  between  the  two 
Seymours  lay  Lord  Lisle.  By  his  arts,  he  had  sharpened 
their  mutual  dislike  into  hatred,  their  jealousy  into  active 
animosity,  and  their  want  of  forgiveness  for  slight  wrong  into 
fierce  vindictiveness. 

Lord  Lisle  had  long  since  perceived  the  growing  animosity 
between  the  brothers,  and  cautiously  fostered  it,  in  the  hope 
that  the  designs  of  the  younger  brother  to  supplant  the  elder 
might  occasion  the  downfall  of  both,  and  leave  the  stage  free 
to  himself.  He  therefore  gave  all  the  encouragement  he 
could  do,  withgut  committing  himself,  to  Sir  Thomas's  aspir- 
ing projects,  and  led  him  to  conclude  he  would  join  any  cabal 
formed  against  the  lord  protector.  With  the  elder  Seymour 
his  course  was  simpler.  By  inflaming  Hertford's  jealousy, 
and  poisoning  his  mind  against  his  turbulent  brother,  he 
rendered  a  good  understanding  between  them  impossible.  It 
was  Lisle  who  informed  the  lord  protector  that  the  young 
king  had  stolen  from  his  chamber  at  an  early  hour  in  order  to 
obtain  a  private  interview  with  his  favorite  uncle ;  and  though 
the  maker  of  the  mischief  joined  with  Sir  John  Gage  in  the 
good  corstable's  efforts  to  heal  the  difference  between  the 
brothers,  he  knew  he  could  easily  undo  the  work,  and  widen 
the  breach  he  intended  to  repair. 

So  far  from  suspecting  Lisle  of  treachery,  or  in  any  way 
distrusting  him,  Hertford  regarded  him  as  one  of  the  firmest 
of  his  partisans.  He  knew  him  to  be  rapacious,  daring,  and 
unscrupulous,   but   he   had  no  conception  of  the   towering 


144  T'/Zf   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [BooUl 

nature  of  his  ambition,  or  of  the  mark  at  which  he  aimed. 
Deceived  by  the  other's  professions  of  gratitude,  and  fancying 
he  had  purchased  his  fidelity,  Hertford  took  him  entirely 
into  his  confidence,  and  laid  open  his  breast  to  him.  At 
this  moment  it  would  have  been  easy  to  crush  such  a  foe; 
but  the  lord  protector  unwittingly  let  the  opportunity  pass  by. 

On  the  present  occasion.  Lisle  did  not  fail  to  point  out  to 
the  lord  protector  that  his  brother  was  intriguing  with  certain 
members  of  the  council  against  him,  and  he  advised  him 
to  beware.  Hertford  replied,  with  a  significant  look,  that  he 
would  not  neglect  the  caution. 

On  the  breaking  up  of  the  assemblage,  Edward  signified  his 
intention  of  visiting  certain  portions  of  the  fortress,  and 
directed  Sir  John  Gage  and  his  younger  uncle  to  attend  him 
during  the  inspection.  The  lord  protector,  whom  it  was  needful 
to  consult,  even  on  so  unimportant  a  matter,  at  once  assented 
to  the  arrangement,  but  somewhat  marred  his  royal  nephew's 
satisfaction  by  offering  to  join  the  party  with  Lord  Lisle. 

The  day  was  exceedingly  fine,  and  very  favorable  for  the 
promenade.  Indeed,  ever  since  Edward's  accession  to  the 
throne,  the  weather  had  been  most  propitious.  A  sharp 
frost  had  now  lasted  for  more  than  a  week,  and  the  atmos- 
phere, though  keen,  was  dry  and  wholesome.  Moreover,  the 
sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  gave  a  pleasant  and  lively  char- 
acter to  the  scene,  depriving  the  hoary  walls  of  the  keep  and 
the  grim-looking  towers  surrounding  the  inner  ward  of 
much  of  their  customary  gloomy  character.  The  spacious 
area,  known  as  Tower-green,  was  at  this  time,  as  we  have 
already  shown,  thronged  from  morn  to  eve;  but  it  chanced 
to  be  more  crowded  than  usual  at  the  moment  when  Edward 
issued  from  the  portals  of  the  White  Tower  with  his  two 
uncles  and  his  other  attendants.  As  soon  as  the  assemblage 
became  aware  of  the  young  sovereign's  presence  amongst 
them,  loud  acclamations  resounded  on  all  sides,  and  a  great 
rush  was  made  in  the  direction  of  the  royal  party. 


Chap.  yiW^       XIT  APPOINTED  KING*S  DIVARF  145 

While  Edward  was  moving  slowly  along  through  the  crowd, 
his  attention  was  caught  by  a  fantastic  little  figure,  which 
at  first  he  took  for  a  monkey,  but  on  examining  the  grotesque 
object  more  narrowly,  he  found  it  to  be  human — though 
the  smallest  specimen  of  full-grown  humanity  he  had  ever  set 
eyes  upon.  Attired  in  a  tiny  doublet  of  bright  orange- 
colored  satin,  puffed  out  with  white,  with  hose  to  match,  the 
mannikin  wore  a  scarlet  cloth  mantle,  lined  with  sky-blue 
silk,  about  large  enough  to  cover  the  shoulders  of  a  Barbary 
ape.  In  his  hand  the  little  being  held  a  flat  bonnet  of  green 
velvet,  which  he  waved  enthusiastically  to  the  king.  The 
dwarf's  features  were  decidedly  of  a  simious  character,  the 
nose  being  flat,  with  wide  nostrils,  and  having  a  long  interval 
between  it  and  the  mouth,  and  the  hair  being  of  a  tawny  hue, 
with  a  marked  resemblance  to  fur.  The  position  occupied 
by  this  grotesque  little  personage  was  such  as  enabled  him  to 
overlook  the  royal  party;  he  being  perched  on  the  broad 
shoulders  of  a  gigantic  warder,  whose  colossal  frame  towered 
far  above  the  heads  of  the  bystanders. 

This  tremendous  son  of  Anak  was  quite  as  noticeable  in  his 
way  as  his  pigmy  companion — more  so,  perhaps.  His  fea- 
tures were  broad  and  good-humored,  and  mightily  pleased 
the  king,  who  could  not  help  regarding  him  with  a  certain 
degree  of  wondering  admiration.  Clad  in  the  scarlet  cassock 
of  a  warder,  with  the  rose  and  crown  embroidered  on  the 
front  and  back,  the  giant  carried  a  partisan  almost  as  long  as 
the  spear  of  Goliath  of  Gath. 

*  *  Marry,  that  should  be  one  of  the  three  giants  of  the 
Tower  of  whom  I  have  heard  tell,"  observed  Edward  to 
Sir  John  Gage,  halting  as  he  spoke ;  *'  but  who  is  the  pigmy 
upon  his  shoulders  ? '  * 

*'  Hath  not  your  Highness  heard  of  Xit,  the  famous  dwarf 
of  the  Tower?"  cried  the  mannikin,  anticipating  the  con- 
stable's reply.  *'I  am  he.  And  ii  rejoices  me  thus  to  be 
able  to  wish  your  Majesty  a  long  and  prosperous  reign. 
10 


146  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  \Boo1t  I 

Long  live  the  noble  king  Edward  !**  he  exclaimed,  at  the  top 
of  his  shrill  voice,  waving  his  cap  to  the  crowd,  who  loudly 
repeated  the  cry.  *'This  overgrown  fellow,  an  please  your 
Majesty,  is  Og — not  Og,  King  of  Basan, — but  Og  of  the 
Tower,"  he  continued,  patting  the  giant's  head,  which 
was  almost  on  a  level  with  his  own  ;  *'  and  yonder,  on  either 
side  of  the  gate  of  the  Coal-Harbour  Tower,  stand  his  two 
brothers,  Gog  and  Magog.  There  is  not  much  difference 
of  size  amongst  them,  but,  if  anything,  Og,  though  the  eldest, 
is  the  lesser  of  the  three ;  howbeit  he  is  the  broadest  across 
the  shoulders." 

' '  If  Nature  hath  given  thee  but  a  small  frame,  she  appears 
to  have  furnished  thee  with  a  glib  tongue,  sirrah,"  replied  the 
king,  laughing. 

'*I  complain  not  of  Nature,  my  gracious  liege,"  rejoined 
Xit.  '*  True  'tis  she  hath  stinted  me  of  my  fair  proportions, 
but  if  she  hath  denied  me  lofty  stature,  she  hath  given  me  in 
revenge  more  brains  than  she  hath  lodged  in  the  thick  skull  of 
this  mighty  Anakim." 

*'  Peace,  thou  saucy  jackanapes,  or  I  will  dash  thee  to  the 
ground,"  cried  Og,  angry  at  the  laughter  of  the  bystanders. 

"That  shouldst  thou  not  wert  thou  as  powerful  as  thy 
namesake  of  Basan, ' '  cried  Xit,  clinging  with  great  tenacity 
to  his  locks.  *'  I  descend  not  from  my  station  unless  at 
his  Highness' s  bidding.     Remove  me  an  thou  dar'st !" 

'*  Set  him  down  before  me,"  said  Edward,  much  diverted 
by  the  scene,  "  and  take  heed  thou  dost  not  harm  him." 

''Hear' St  thou  not  his  Majesty's  command,  base  giant?" 
cried  Xit,  pulling  him  by  the  ear.  *'  Place  me  on  the  ground 
gently  and  gracefully. ' ' 

Thus  enjoined,  Og  stepped  forward,  and  bent  down  in 
order  to  allow  Xit  to  spring  from  his  shoulder. 

But  though  the  giant  stooped  his  huge  frame  as  much  as  he 
conveniently  could,  Xit  had  still  rather  a  high  jump  to  make, 
and  his  foot  unluckily  catching  in  the  puffed  out  wing  of  Og's 


Chap.  K///]       XIT  j4PP0lNTED  KING'S  DIVARF  147 

cassock,  he  alighted  upon  his  head,  amid  the  irrepressible 
laughter  of  the  beholders. 

Luckily,  the  dwarf's  head  was  tolerably  thick,  so  no  great 
damage  was  done  him,  neither  was  he  much  disconcerted. 
Picking  himself  quickly  up,  he  rated  Og  for  his  clumsiness, 
sharply  reproved  the  bystanders  for  their  unseemly  merriment, 
which  caused  them  to  laugh  the  more,  and  then  made  a  pro- 
found, and,  as  he  conceived,  courtier-like  obeisance  to  the 
king. 

'*  What  office  dost  thou  fill  in  the  Tower,  sirrah,  if  there 
be  an  office  small  enough  to  fit  thee  ? ' '  inquired  Edward. 

''Any  office  would  fit  me,  an  please  your  Majesty,  since  my 
capacity  is  equal  to  the  greatest,"  answered  Xit,  readily; 
**  but  desert,  as  I  need  not  remind  so  wise  a  prince,  doth 
not  always  meet  reward.  At  this  moment  I  am  out  of  office, 
or  rather,  I  should  say,  I  have  been  unaccountably  over- 
looked. Honors  and  posts  have  fallen  on  taller  men's  heads, 
but  not  on  mine,  which  they  would  have  suited  equally  well 
— mayhap  better. ' ' 

**Your  Majesty's  august  father  always  kept  a  fool — nay, 
three — to  make  him  merry  with  quip  and  quirk, ' '  remarked 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  '*Will  Somers,  Sexton,  and  Patch, 
are  out  of  date ;  but  this  conceited  dandiprat  might  fill  the 
place  of  one  of  them,  and  serve  to  divert  your  Grace. ' ' 

'  *  By  the  rood  !  I  like  your  notion  well,  gentle  uncle, ' '  re- 
joined Edward,  with  boyish  delight.  ''Thou  shalt  be  my 
fool,  sirrah,  if  thou  wilt,"  he  added  to  Xit. 

"I  will  be  aught  your  Majesty  may  deign  to  make  me," 
responded  the  dwarf,  "and  I  thank  you,  in  all  humility,  for 
your  goodness ;  but  I  would  fain  have  the  designation  of  mine 
office  slightly  changed.  Half-witted  buffoons,  like  Will 
Somers  and  his  compeers,  might  well  be  styled  '  fools,'  seeing 
they  were  little  better ;  but  for  me,  I  have  ever  been  noted 
for  sprightliness  and  wit,  and  I  hope  to  divert  your  Highness 
in  a  very  different  sort  from  dullards  like  to  those. ' ' 


148  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  I 

**If  thou  lik'st  not  to  be  called  'court  fool/  will  'court 
jester'  suit  thee  better,  thou  malapert  little  knave?"  asked 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour. 

"It  may  suit  me,  yet  I  like  it  not,"  replied  Xit.  '*If  I 
sought  to  be  styled  'jester '  instead  of  *  fool,'  it  would  prove 
me  a  great  fool  and  a  sorry  jester — a,  jester  being  the  greatest 
of  fools,  since  every  man  may  make  game  of  him,  which,  I 
promise  your  worship,  no  man  shall  do  with  me. '  * 

''Aha !  thou  art  as  difficult  to  please  as  a  breeding  dame, 
thou  saucy  little  varlet,"  laughed  Seymour.  "What  title 
will  please  thee  ? ' ' 

"An  I  be  simply  termed  his  Majesty's  faithful  dwarf,  I  shall 
be  well  satisfied, '  *  returned  Xit,  bowing  obsequiously. 

"Have  thy  wish,  then,"  said  Edward,  delighted  by  the 
mannikin's  readiness.  "  Henceforth  I  take  thee  into  my  ser- 
vice under  that  designation.  Thou  shalt  have  a  dwarf's 
wages  and  a  dwarf's  livery." 

"Let  my  wages  be  full-grown,  though  my  livery  be  never 
so  scant,  an  please  your  Majesty, ' '  rejoined  Xit.  '  'If  my  hire 
be  proportioned  to  my  size,  it  will  come  to  little.  Measure 
it  rather  by  yonder  giant.  Howbeit,  in  any  case,  I  humbly 
thank  your  Highness.  Grant  me  a  sword,  and  my  happiness 
will  be  complete." 

"A  bodkin  would  suit  thee  better,"  observed  Seymour. 
**  What  should  such  a  jackanapes  as  thou  do  with  a  sword?  " 

"Use  it  in  his  Majesty's  defence,  and  in  the  maintenance 
of  mine  own  honor,"  replied  Xit,  with  the  pride  of  an  offended 
Castilian. 

"  Nay,  if  a  sword  will  make  thee  happy,  my  cutler  shall 
provide  thee  one,"  said  the  king.  "Hie  thee  and  bring 
those  giant  warders  before  me.  I  am  curious  to  behold 
them." 

"Your  Highness' s  commands  shall  be  promptly  obeyed," 
replied  Xit,  darting  off  towards  the  Wardrobe  Tower. 

' '  Ho,  there  !  ye  dull  and  sluggish  Titans, ' '  vociferated  the 


Chap.  Vlll^        XIT  APPOINTED  KING'S  DWARF  149 

dwarf,  as  he  drew  near  the  gateway  beside  which  Gog  and 
Magog  were  stationed.  **Ho,  there,  I  say !  Are  ye  deaf  as 
well  as  stupid  ?     Come  with  me  instantly  ! ' ' 

**  Wherefore  should  we  go  with  thee,  thou  restless  gad- 
about?" rejoined  Gog,  leaning  on  his  tall  partisan,  and  look- 
ing down  good-humoredly  at  him. 

*' Question  not,  but  follow,"  cried  Xit,  authoritatively. 

'*Even  if  we  cared  to  comply,  we  could  not,"  rejoined 
Magog,  the  youngest  and  largest  of  the  three  giants.  **Our 
post  is  at  this  gate,  and  we  may  not  quit  it  till  the  guard  be 
relieved. '  * 

'*  But  I  am  sent  by  the  king's  Majesty  to  bring  you  to  him, 
rebellious  Titans,"  cried  Xit.      ''Obey  at  your  peril !" 

''Is  this  one  of  the  gamesome  little  bawcock's  jests,  think' st 
thou,  Gog?"  said  the  younger  giant. 

"I  know  not,"  replied  the  other.  "His  Majesty  is 
yonder — ^but  if  we  stir  from  our  posts  without  the  lieutenant's 
license,  we  shall  be  reprimanded." 

"But  my  order  is  from  a  greater  than  the  lieutenant,  or 
even  than  the  constable,  and  ye  had  best  not  neglect  it," 
cried  Xit,  stamping  his  tiny  foot  impatiently  on  the  ground. 
"Know  ye,  incredulous  bawsons,  that  I  am  now  one  of  the 
royal  household." 

"Nay,  an  thou  affirmest  that,  I  doubt  all  the  rest,"  said 
Magog.      * '  I  stir  not  hence. ' ' 

"  Neither  do  I,"  added  Gog.  "Thou  must  invent  a  better 
tale  than  this,  thou  false  imp,  to  lure  us  from  our  duty." 

"  On  my  soul !  your  stupidity  is  on  a  par  with  your  stature, 
ye  huge  puzzle-pates, ' '  cried  Xit.  "Ye  are  keeping  the  king's 
Majesty  waiting  all  this  time.  Ye  shall  ride  the  wooden  horse 
and  brook  the  stinging  lash,  if  you  detain  me  much  longer. ' ' 

"An  it  be  true  that  the  king  hath  sent  for  us,  we  ought  to 
go,"  observed  Magog,  with  a  perplexed  look. 

"Assuredly,"  returned  Gog;  "but  we  have  no  certitude 
on  the  point.    Ha !  there  comes  Og  to  help  us  in  this  dilemma. 


150  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

What  must  we  do,  brother?'*  he  added,  as  the  third  giant 
approached  them  with  mighty  strides. 

**Stay  where  you  are,"  replied  Og.  "The  king  will  be 
here  anon.  Nay,  Xit  hath  not  deceived  you,  * '  he  added,  see- 
ing them  look  at  the  dwarf;  **he  was  sent  to  bring  you  into 
the  royal  presence,  but  since  then,  his  Majesty  having  been 
informed  by  the  Constable  of  the  Tower  that  you  are  on  duty 
here,  would  not  have  you  disturbed,  but  is  coming  hither 
himself." 

*'  His  Highness  will  be  here  in  a  trice,"  said  Xit,  perceiv- 
ing that  the  royal  party  was  drawing  nigh.  **Take  pattern 
by  me,  and  demean  yourselves  properly." 

In  another  moment,  Edward  and  his  attendants  came  up. 
The  three  gigantic  warders  were  now  standing  together,  and 
as  their  big  burly  frames  were  bent  towards  the  youthful  and 
fragile -looking  king,  it  was  like  three  sturdy  oaks  inclining  to 
a  slender  reed. 

'*A  boon!  a  boon!  an  please  your  Majesty!"  exclaimed 
the  three  giants,  in  concert.  *  *A  boon  we  crave  at  your  royal 
hands." 

*'  Name  it,  good  fellows,"  replied  Edward,  well  pleased  by 
their  appearance. 

**Fain  would  we  be  allowed  some  part,  however  humble, 
at  your  Majesty's  approaching  coronation,"  said  Magog,  who 
acted  as  spokesman  for  the  others. 

**  The  request  is  granted  as  soon  as  preferred,"  replied  Ed- 
ward, graciously.  **  The  lord  chamberlain  shall  assign  you  a 
fitting  part  in  the  ceremony." 

'*  Gramercy,  my  gracious  liege,"  cried  the  three  giants 
together. 

*' Bestow  upon  them  ten  broad  pieces  each,  Sir  John," 
said  Edward  to  the  constable,  "as  an  earnest  of  our  future 
favor." 

''Your  Majesty  is  over-bountiful,"  rejoined  Magog,  mod- 
estly.    "Howbeit,  I  make  bold  to  say  that  your  Highness 


Chap.  Fill  2       XIT  APPOINTED  KING'S  DIVARF  151 

hath  not  three  trustier  subjects  than  my  brothers  and  my- 
self." 

**  Not  three  taller  subjects,  certes,**  rejoined  Edward ;  *'  and 
I  doubt  not  trusty  as  tall.  There  must  be  no  pageant  or 
court  show  without  these  lusty  fellows,"  he  added,  to  Sir 
John  Gage. 

**  'Tis  what  they  are  specially  fit  for,  my  gracious  liege," 
said  the  constable.  '*Your  august  father  loved  to  see  their 
burly  figures  in  a  pageant." 

**Your  Majesty's  condescension  makes  us  proud,"  said 
Gog.      *'  We  shall  hold  our  heads  higher  ever  afterwards." 

''No  occasion  for  that,"  rejoined  Xit.  '*  Marry,  your 
heads  are  too  much  i*  the  air  already." 

'*Let  us  now  to  the  Bloody  Tower,  good  Sir  John,"  said 
Edward  to  the  constable.  **You  promised  to  show  me 
the  chamber  where  the  murder  of  the  young  princes  was 
done." 

'*I  will  conduct  your  Highness  thither  at  once,"  replied 
Gage. 

* '  Nay,  I  must  have  thy  company,  my  merry  little  knave,  * ' 
cried  Edward,  seeing  Xit  look  at  him  beseechingly.  *'I 
have  conceived  a  liking  for  thee.  Thy  humor  pleases  me. 
Follow  in  my  train. ' ' 

Made  supremely  happy  by  the  permission  thus  graciously 
accorded  him,  Xit  strutted  after  the  royal  party  like  a  peacock 
with  its  tail  displayed  in  the  sun. 


152  THE  CONSTylBLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  I 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  IVH/IT  MANNER  MAUGER,   THE  HEADSMAN,  FORETOLD 
THAT  CERTAIN  LORDS  SHOULD  DIE  BY  HIS  HAND 

On  reaching  the  wide,  deep  archway  of  the  Bloody  Tower, 
then  secured  at  either  end  by  strong  gates  and  a  ponderous 
portcullis,  the  royal  party  came  to  a  halt,  and  a  few  moments 
were  occupied  by  Edward  in  examining  the  beautiful  groining 
and  tracery  of  the  vaulted  roof.  His  curiosity  satisfied  in 
this  respect,  the  young  monarch  was  conducted  by  Sir  John 
Gage  to  a  postern  on  the  east  side  of  the  gateway,  which  led 
to  a  small,  gloomy  stone  chamber,  or  rather  vault,  wherein, 
according  to  tradition,  the  victims  of  the  ruthless  Gloucester's 
cruelty  were  interred. 

The  constable  would  fain  have  dissuaded  the  young  king 
from  entering  this  dismal  vault,  and  the  gate  porter  who 
was  with  them  appeared  extremely  reluctant  to  show  it,  but 
Edward  had  set  his  mind  upon  seeing  the  place,  and  was 
resolved  to  go  in.  There  was  nothing  in  the  appearance 
of  the  chamber  to  reward  the  young  monarch's  curiosity.  It 
was  built  of  stone  with  a  ribbed  ceiling,  and  looked  con- 
fined and  gloomy,  being  imperfectly  lighted  by  two  narrow 
grated  embrasures.  But  it  had  a  very  strange  occupant,  and, 
on  beholding  him,  Edward  at  once  comprehended  why  ad- 
mittance had  not  been  more  readily  accorded  him. 

The  aspect  and  demeanor  of  this  personage  were  savage 
and  repulsive,  and  even  the  king's  presence  did  not  seem 
to  inspire  him  with  much  awe,  though  he  rose  on  Edward's 
appearance,  and  made  a  clumsy  attempt  at  an  obeisance. 
The  upper  part  of  his  frame  was  strongly,  though  not  stoutly 
built,   the  arms  being  remarkably  muscular,  but  his  lower 


Chap.  IX ^  THE  HEy4DSMAN'S  PREDICTIONS  153 

limbs  were  less  powerful,  and  he  seemed  to  be  halt  of  the 
right  leg.  His  physiognomy  was  singularly  repulsive,  the 
nose  being  broad  and  flat,  and  the  eyes  fierce  and  bloodshot ; 
the  forehead  bald,  and  the  hue  of  the  skin  dull  and  earthy.  His 
cheeks  were  clothed  with  a  shaggy  black  beard,  and  the  sable 
locks  left  on  either  side  of  his  head  were  wild  and  unkempt. 
His  habiliments  were  of  red  serge,  but  above  his  doublet 
he  wore  a  leathern  jerkin,  which  was  sullied  with  dark  stains, 
as  if  of  gore.  On  his  right  hip  he  carried  a  broad  two-edged 
knife,  protected  by  a  sheath.  But  the  implement  that  pro- 
claimed his  revolting  office  was  an  executioner' s  axe.  This  he 
had  not  the  grace  to  lay  aside,  but  continued  to  lean  upon  it 
while  standing  before  the  king.  Another  axe,  similar  in  size 
and  form,  was  reared  against  the  wall,  and  near  it  stood 
a  two-handed  sword,  sometimes,  though  but  rarely,  employed 
in  capital  punishments.  When  the  headsman  arose,  it  in- 
stantly became  apparent  that  the  seat  he  had  occupied  was  the 
block — and,  moreover,  that  it  was  a  block  which  had  been 
frequently  used. 

While  Edward  gazed  at  the  executioner  with  feelings  of 
mingled  horror  and  loathing,  he  bethought  him  of  the  Lady 
Jane  Grey's  description  of  the  hideous  caitiff,  and  recognized 
its  justice.  At  the  same  time,  Sir  John  Gage  sharply  re- 
buked the  porter  for  allowing  his  Majesty  to  be  offended 
by  such  a  sight. 

*'Nay,  the  fault  was  mine  own,  good  Sir  John,**  inter- 
posed Edward;  **the  man  tried  to  hinder  me,  but  I  would 
come  in.  Is  it  sooth  that  the  two  hapless  princes  were  buried 
here?" 

**  Here  where  I  stand,  sire,"  replied  Mauger,  striking  the 
floor  with  his  heel.  "Their  tender  bodies  were  laid  i'  the 
earth  beneath  this  stone.** 

**  Hold  thy  peace,  fellow,  unless  his  Grace  addresses  thee,** 
cried  the  constable,  angrily. 

'*  Nay,  I  meant  no  offence,"  growled  the  headsman ;  "his 


154  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  I 

Majesty's  royal  father  was  wont  to  talk  to  me,  and  I  thought 
I  might  do  the  same  with  King  Harry's  royal  offspring.  I 
once  gave  his  late  Majesty  a  proof  of  my  power  which  greatly 
amazed  him,  and  I  will  do  as  much  for  his  present  Highness 
if  it  shall  please  him  to  command  me.*' 

"Again  I  bid  thee  hold  thy  peace,"  said  the  constable, 
sternly.  ''Hath  your  Grace  seen  enough  of  this  dismal 
chamber  ? ' ' 

'*Ay;  but,  before  quitting  it,  I  would  fain  know  what 
proof  of  power  the  varlet  proposed  to  display  to  me,"  re- 
joined Edward,  whose  curiosity  was  awakened. 

*^  Some  juggling  trick,  most  likely,  your  Highness,"  said 
Gage. 

"  Not  so.  Sir  John,"  rejoined  Mauger.  "  I  am  no  sooth- 
sayer, but  long  practice  hath  given  me  a  certain  skill,  and  I 
can  tell  by  a  man's  looks  if  he  be  to  die  by  my  hand. " 

Edward  looked  surprised,  and  glanced  at  the  constable, 
who  shook  his  head  sceptically. 

**  Will  it  please  your  Majesty  to  put  me  to  the  test?"  de- 
manded Mauger.  *'  But  I  must  be  permitted  to  speak  freely 
and  without  respect  to  persons,  else  I  dare  not  do  it." 

**Are  there  any  here  willing  to  submit  to  the  ordeal  ?  "  in- 
quired Edward,  turning  to  his  attendants,  all  of  whom  had 
entered  the  chamber. 

Several  voices  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

*'I  am  to  be  free  from  all  consequences  if  I  proclaim  the 
truth  ?  ' '  pursued  Mauger.. 

**  Thou  hast  my  royal  word  for  it,"  replied  Edward. 

'*  Then  let  any  one  who  will  advance,  place  his  foot  upon 
the  block,  and  look  at  me  steadily,"  rejoined  Mauger. 

**I  will  go  first,  having  neither  fear  nor  faith,"  said  the 
constable.     And  he  did  as  Mauger  had  directed. 

After  looking  fixedly  at  him  for  a  moment,  the  executioner 
observed  with  a  grim  smile,  *'  Your  head  will  never  be  mine, 
Sir  John." 


Chap.  IX '\  THE  HEADSMAN'S  PREDICTIONS  155 

*'  I  never  deemed  it  would,  thou  fell  hound,"  replied  the 
constable,  turning  away. 

**  I  will  make  the  next  essay,"  said  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
stepping  lightly  forward,  and  placing  his  foot  gracefully  upon 
the  block. 

The  headsman  fixed  his  eyes  upon  him  keenly  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  struck  the  flag  with  his  axe. 

A  hollow  and  ominous  sound  was  returned  by  the  stone,  as 
if  the  repose  of  the  dead  had  been  disturbed. 

"  That  signifies  that  thou  art  to  handle  me  on  the  scaffold, 
thou  vile  caitiff — ha  ? ' '  cried  Seymour  with  a  contemptuous 
laugh.  '*  My  nerves  are  unshaken.  Does  your  Highness 
hesitate  ?  "  he  added  to  the  lord  protector. 

**Not  I,  forsooth,"  rejoined  Hertford,  taking  his  place. 
"  I  have  no  more  misgiving  than  yourself." 

*  *  Desist,  I  pray  your  Highness.   I  like  it  not,  *  *  cried  Ekiward. 

**  Nay,  I  must  needs  disobey  your  Grace,  or  my  brother 
will  say  I  am  afraid,"  returned  Hertford. 

* '  That  shall  I,  and  think  so  too, '  *  cried  Seymour. 

**  I  pray  your  Highness  look  me  straight  in  the  face,"  said 
Mauger. 

And  as  the  lord  protector  complied,  he  again  struck  the 
stone  with  his  axe,  occasioning  the  same  hollow  resonance  as 
before. 

*'  Soh  !  your  Highness  is  likewise  doomed  !"  exclaimed  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour,  with  a  laugh. 

''It  would  appear  so,"  rejoined  Hertford,  with  a  forced 
smile. 

"Let  us  see  what  my  destiny  will  be,"  said  Lord  Lisle, 
advancing. 

And,  setting  his  foot  on  the  block,  he  gazed  with  exceed- 
ing sternness  at  the  headsman,  hoping  to  terrify  him.  Mau- 
ger, however,  did  not  quail  before  the  look,  but,  after  a  brief 
scrutiny  of  the  other's  countenance,  again  smote  the  stone 
with  his  fatal  axe. 


156  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book 

This  time  the  sound  proceeding  from  the  flag  was  deepei 
and  more  awful  than  on  the  previous  occasions. 

**The  knave  ought  to  pay  for  his  insolence  with  his  ears," 
cried  Sir  John  Gage,  angrily. 

"  I  have  his  Majesty's  word  that  I  am  to  go  scot-free,"  re- 
joined Mauger.  *'  I  cannot  alter  the  decrees  of  fate,  and  am 
no  more  responsible  for  what  may  ensue  than  the  senseless 
weapon  I  strike  withal.  But  I  do  grieve  sometimes ;  and  it 
saddens  me  to  think  that  a  fair  and  noble  young  creature, 
whom  I  beheld  for  the  first  time  in  the  Tower  only  three  days 
ago,  will  most  like  claim  mine  office. ' ' 

Edward  shuddered  on  hearing  this  remark,  for  he  could  not 
help  fearing  that  the  caitiff  alluded  to  the  Lady  Jane  Grey. 
However,  he  forbore  to  question  him. 

**Are  there  any  more  who  desire  to  make  the  experi- 
ment ? ' '  pursued  Mauger. 

*  'Ay,  I  would  fain  ascertain  if  my  death  is  to  be  by  decapi- 
tation," cried  Xit,  leaping  on  to  the  block,  and  regarding  the 
executioner  with  ludicrous  sternness. 

** Hence!"  exclaimed  Mauger,  pushing  him  with  the 
handle  of  his  axe,  and  causing  him  to  skip  off  with  all  haste. 
*'  No  such  honorable  ending  is  reserved  for  thee." 

This  incident,  which  created  some  merriment,  dissipated 
the  unpleasant  effect  produced  by  the  previous  trials;  and 
directing  that  half-a-dozen  rose-nobles  should  be  given  to 
Mauger,  the  king  quitted  the  vault  with  his  attendants. 


Chap,x;\  KING  EDiVARD  VISITS  NORFOLK  157 


CHAPTER  X 


HOW  KING  EDIVARD  VISITED  THE  DUKE  OF  NORFOLK  IN 
THE  BEAUCHAMP  TOWER 

Preceded  by  Sir  John  Gage,  and  followed  by  the  rest 
of  his  attendants,  Edward  next  ascended  a  short  spiral  stair- 
case communicating  with  an  upper  apartment  in  the  Bloody 
Tower,  wherein  the  dark  deed  was  done  that  has  conferred 
such  fearful  celebrity  on  the  structure ;  and  after  examining 
the  mysterious  chamber,  and  listening  to  the  constable's 
details  of  the  tragical  affair,  he  tracked  a  narrow  passage, 
constructed  in  the  inner  ballium  wall,  leading  to  the  lieuten- 
ant's lodgings.  On  arriving  there,  he  was  received  with 
great  ceremony  by  Sir  John  Markham,  and  shown  over  the 
building. 

Throughout  his  investigations,  the  young  monarch  allowed 
no  object  of  interest,  historical  or  otherwise,  to  escape  him, 
and  displayed  a  quickness  and  a  fund  of  knowledge  surprising 
in  one  so  young.  Inquiries  having  been  made  by  the  king 
of  the  constable  respecting  the  state  delinquents  at  that  time 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower,  Sir  John  Gage  seized  the  opportu- 
nity of  asking  whether  it  would  please  his  majesty  to  visit  any 
of  them,  and  especially  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  As  may  be 
conjectured,  the  proposition  was  not  made  without  a  latent 
motive  on  the  part  of  the  worthy  constable,  who,  being 
warmly  attached  to  the  duke,  hoped  that  Edward's  com- 
passion might  be  so  much  moved  by  the  sight  of  the  illustrious 
captive,  that  he  would  grant  him  a  pardon.  The  lord 
protector  evidently  entertained  a  like  impression,  and  his 
dread  lest  his  royal  nephew's  clemency  might  be  exercised  in 
behalf  of  the  unfortunate  nobleman  was  so  great,  that  he 


158  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  I 

would  have  opposed  the  visit  had  he  not  feared  to  incense  Sir 
John  Gage,  with  whom,  for  many  reasons,  he  desired  to  con- 
tinue on  good  terms.  He  therefore  raised  no  objections 
when  Edward  agreed  to  go  at  once  to  the  Beauchamp  Tower, 
where  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  was  confined,  but  bowing  gravely 
in  token  of  acquiescence,  observed,  '*Your  Majesty  must 
steel  your  heart.  Efforts,  I  foresee,  will  be  made  to  move  it. 
But  you  must  not  forget  that  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  is  a  con- 
demned traitor,  and  still  under  sentence  of  death. '  * 

**  I  shall  not  forget  it,"  replied  Edward. 

It  was  not  necessary  for  the  royal  party  to  go  forth  in  order 
to  reach  the  tower  in  question,  since  a  communication  existed 
between  it  and  the  lieutenant's  lodgings  by  means  of  a  paved 
footway  along  the  summit  of  the  inner  ballium  wall,  and 
by  which  the  chief  officer  of  the  fortress  could  visit  the 
prisoners  unperceived.  This  mode  of  access,  which  still 
exists,  soon  brought  them  to  the  chamber  wherein  the  duke 
was  immured. 

No  intimation  was  given  the  prisoner  of  the  king's  ap- 
proach. The  door  was  unbarred  by  Tombs  the  gaoler,  and 
Edward  and  his  attendants  admitted. 

The  apartment  entered  by  them  was  spacious,  and  suffi 
ciently  well  adapted  to  the  purpose  to  which  it  was  applied 
Connected  with  it  were  two  cells,  which  could  be  locked 
at  night,  and  the  walls,  which  were  built  of  stone  and  of 
immense  thickness,  were  pierced  by  four  deep  recesses,  with 
narrow  apertures  strongly  grated  without.  That  the  chambei 
had  had  many  previous  tenants  was  proved  by  the  numerous 
melancholy  memorials  covering  its  walls.  Its  present  unfor- 
tunate occupant  had  sought  to  beguile  the  weary  hours  by 
similar  employment,  and  at  the  moment  when  the  royal  party 
invaded  his  solitude,  he  was  engaged  in  carving  a  large 
crucifix  on  the  stones. 

Despite  the  terrible  reverses  he  had  experienced,  and  the 
weight  of  years — he  was  then  considerably  past  seventy — the 


Chap.X;\  KING  EDIVARD  VISITS  NORFOLK  159 

Duke  of  Norfolk  was  still  a  very  noble -looking  personage. 
Though  shorn  of  wealth  and  honors,  disgraced  and  attainted 
of  high  treason,  his  grandeur  of  soul  enabled  him  to  bear  his 
unmerited  misfortunes  with  dignity  and  fortitude.  His  lofty 
and  stately  figure  was  still  proud  and  erect  as  in  the  summer 
season  of  his  prosperity.  He  had  fallen  on  evil  days,  but 
calamity  had  no  power  to  shake  him.  His  looks  had  ever 
been  proud,  as  was  not  unnatural  in  the  first  peer  of  the 
realm,  and  his  deportment  singularly  majestic;  and  both 
looks  and  deportment  continued  the  same  under  the  present 
trying  circumstances.  It  is  true  that  deep  traces  of  care  were 
visible  on  his  pallid  brow,  and  that  his  features  were  stamped 
with  profound  melancholy,  but  these  changes  only  heightened 
the  interest  of  his  noble  countenance.  His  grey  beard  had 
been  allowed  to  grow  to  great  length,  and  his  hoary  locks 
were  untrimmed.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  flat  velvet  cap,  des- 
titute of  brooch,  jewel,  or  plume.  No  collar  of  the  Garter, 
bestowed  on  him  by  his  own  sovereign — no  collar  of  St. 
Michael,  given  him  by  Francis  the  First,  were  placed  round 
his  neck.  His  attire  was  without  ornament,  and  consisted 
of  a  long,  loose,  philemot-colored  velvet  gown,  furred  with 
sables,  with  a  high  collar  and  wide  hanging  sleeves,  be- 
neath which  the  tight  sleeves  of  a  russet  doublet  were  dis- 
cernible. 

On  hearing  the  entrance  of  the  royal  party,  he  ceased  his 
occupation,  and  at  once  perceiving  it  was  the  king,  he  laid 
down  the  mallet  and  chisel,  and  doffing  his  cap,  cast  himself 
at  Edward's  feet. 

It  was  a  touching  spectacle  to  behold  this  reverend  and 
noble-looking  prisoner  prostrate  before  the  youthful  monarch ; 
but  with  the  exception  of  Sir  John  Gage  it  failed  to  move  any 
of  the  beholders  with  pity.  Even  Edward  himself  seemed  to 
have  followed  his  uncle's  stern  counsel,  and  to  have  hardened 
his  heart  against  the  unfortunate  duke. 

Norfolk  essayed  to  speak,  but  his  emotion  was  too  great  to 


i6o  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  I 

enable  him  to  give  utterance  to  his  words,  and  a  convulsive 
sob  alone  escaped  him. 

** Arise,  my  Lord  Duke,"  said  Edward,  coldly.  *'And  I 
pray  you  put  some  constraint  upon  your  feelings. ' ' 

'*  Will  not  your  Highness  suffer  me  to  kiss  your  hand  and 
pay  you  homage  ?  ' '  rejoined  the  duke,  retaining  his  humble 
position. 

* 'Attainted  of  high  treason  as  thou  art,  Thomas  Howard, 
thou  art  incapable  of  rendering  homage,  and  his  Highness 
cannot  receive  it  from  thee, ' '  interposed  the  lord  protector, 
severely.  **This  thou  shouldst  know.  Arise,  as  thou  art 
bidden. ' ' 

Recalled  to  himself  by  this  harsh  treatment,  Norfolk  got 
up,  and  said,  in  a  mournful  voice,  **This,  then,  is  the  end 
of  my  long  services  to  the  king  my  master !  Heaven  grant 
me  patience — I  have  sore  need  of  it ! " 

Edward  could  not  fail  to  be  touched  by  the  duke's  distress, 
and  would  have  spoken  to  him  had  not  Hertford  again  inter- 
posed. '*Thou  forgettest  the  heinous  offences  laid  to  thy 
charge,  Thomas  Howard,"  he  said,  **  and  of  which  thou  didst 
confess  thyself  guilty  in  thy  submission  made  to  his  late  Maj- 
esty. Thy  offences  against  thy  royal  master  far  outweighed 
any  services  rendered  by  thee  towards  him,  and  justly  pro- 
voked his  ire.  Had  the  late  king  been  spared  another  day, 
thou  wouldst  not  be  here  now. ' ' 

''I  know  it,"  rejoined  the  duke;  '*but  another  and  a 
mightier  hand  than  thine,  Edward  Seymour,  was  at  work  for 
my  preservation.  My  death-warrant  was  prepared  at  thy  in- 
stigation, but  it  was  not  given  to  thee  to  accomplish  thy  work. 
My  life  has  been  wondrously  spared — it  may  be  for  some  good 
purpose.  Thou,  who  mockest  me  in  my  distress,  mayst  be 
the  first  to  perish." 

**  Your  highness  has  brought  this  upon  yourself,  I  must 
needs  say, ' '  observed  Sir  John  Gage  to  the  lord  protector. 

'*  In  regard  to  my  confession,"  pursued  Norfolk,  ''no  one 


Chap.  A-]  KING  EDIVARD  VISITS  NORFOLK  i6i 

knows  better  than  thou  dost,  Edward  Seymour,  by  what  de- 
vices it  was  wrested  from  me,  and  if  it  shall  please  the  king's 
Majesty  to  question  me,  I  will  explain  why  I  was  led  to  make 
acknowledgment  of  crimes  whereof  I  was  guiltless,  and  to  sue 
for  pardon  when  I  ought  to  have  been  honorably  absolved. 
Faults  I  may  have  had — as  who  amongst  us  is  free  from  them  ? 
— but  want  of  fidelity  and  devotion  to'  my  late  royal  master 
— on  whose  soul  may  Jesu  have  mercy  ! — was  not  amongst 
them.  Witness  for  me  the  victories  I  have  won  for  him  over 
the  Scots  and  French.  Witness  my  wounds  received  at 
the  siege  of  Jedworth  and  the  assault  and  taking  of  Mont- 
didier.  Witness  for  me  my  expedition  to  Ireland,  now  some 
five-and-twenty  years  ago,  when  you,  my  lord  protector, 
were  humble  enough,  and  proud  of  a  smile  from  me — witness, 
I  say,  that  expedition,  wherein  I  succeeded  in  compelling  the 
submission  of  O' Moore,  and  in  pacifying  the  insurgents — for 
the  which  I  received  my  sovereign's  grateful  thanks.  Witness 
for  me  my  missions  to  Francis  the  First,  to  prevent  a  complete 
rupture  with  his  Holiness  the  Pope.  My  royal  master  was 
well  pleased  with  me  on  both  occasions,  and  so  I  may  presume 
was  the  French  king  also — seeing  that  the  latter  decorated  me 
with  the  collar  of  St.  Michael.  The  collar  is  gone,  but 
ye  cannot  say  I  had  it  not.  Witness  also  for  me  the  quelling 
of  the  dangerous  rebellion  in  the  North,  and  the  dispersion  of 
the  so-called  Pilgrimage  of  Grace.  Owing  to  my  determined 
measures  it  was,  that  a  second  insurrection  was  crushed.  My 
royal  master  thanked  me  then,  and  termed  me  '  his  right 
hand. '  Witness  for  me  five-and-thirty  years  passed  wholly  in 
my  master's  service.  Witness  full  fourteen  years  passed  in  the 
service  of  that  master's  father.  And,  if  it  had  been  permitted 
me,  the  remainder  of  my  days  should  have  been  spent  in  the 
service  of  my  master's  royal  son,  whom  Jesu  preserve  !" 

"  I  thank  your  Grace  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Edward. 

"The  best  counsel  my  judgment  could  furnish  hath  been 
ever  offered  to  your  august  father,  sire,"  pursued  Norfolk; 
II 


i62  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

"and  it  was  offered  disinterestedly.  On  more  than  one 
occasion  I  have  poured  out  my  best  blood  for  him,  and  I 
would  joyfully  pour  out  the  rest  for  your  Majesty. ' ' 

*'What  says  your  Highness  to  this?"  demanded  Edward 
of  the  lord  protector. 

*'In  enumerating  his  services  to  his  sovereign/'  replied 
Hertford,  "  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  hath  carefully  omitted  all 
mention  of  the  pernicious  counsels  given  by  him  against  the 
professors  of  the  Reformed  faith,  and  of  the  secret  efforts 
he  hath  made  to  bring  the  Church  again  under  subjection 
to  the  See  of  Rome.  He  has  forgotten  to  state  that  he 
was  the  principal  deviser  of  the  sanguinary  Statute  of  the  Six 
Articles,  and  that  he  was  the  grand  persecutor  of  all  professing 
the  new  opinions.  Neither  has  he  stated  that  in  his  last 
expedition  to  Scotland,  in  1542,  when  he  went  thither 
as  captain -general  of  the  forces  at  the  head  of  twenty  thousand 
men,  the  campaign  was  without  result,  and  the  king  deeply 
dissatisfied  with  him.  Equally  inglorious  would  have  been 
the  expedition  to  France  in  1544,  had  not  the  king  con- 
ducted it  in  person." 

"At  that  time  my  enemies  were  at  work  against  me,"  said 
Norfolk.  "They  envied  me  my  master's  favor,  and  were 
resolved  to  rob  me  of  it.  Foremost  amongst  my  detrac- 
tors and  enemies  hast  thou  ever  been,  O  Edward  Seymour ! 
The  axe  has  been  laid  by  thee  at  the  root  of  one  of  the  good- 
liest trees  that  ever  grew  on  English  soil,  and  thou  hast  hewn 
it  down  remorselessly.  Beware  of  the  axe  thyself!  Thou 
hast  robbed  me  of  my  brave  and  chivalrous  son  Surrey, 
the  soul  of  honor  and  loyalty  !  Never  shall  he  be  replaced  ! 
Never  shall  the  young  king's  Highness  find  such  another, 
search  where  he  may  !  I  weep  for  my  son,"  he  continued,  in 
a  broken  voice,  "  though  I  weep  not  for  myself.  A  father's 
curse  light  on  thee,  Edward  Seymour  ! ' ' 

"Your  Majesty  will  perceive  what  vindictive  sentiments 
the  arch-traitor  nourishes, ' '  observed  the  lord  protector. 


Chap.  ^]  Kir^G  EDIVARD  VISITS  NORFOLK  163 

"  Some  allowance  must  be  made  for  a  father's  feelings/* 
said  Sir  John  Gage.  ' '  The  loss  of  such  a  son  as  the  Earl  of 
Surrey  may  excuse  much  passionate  grief  on  the  duke's  part. " 

**I  thank  you,  good  Sir  John,"  said  Norfolk.  **Much 
courage  is  required  to  plead  for  the  unfriended  captive.  One 
word  more  with  thee,  Edward  Seymour,  and  I  have  done. 
Thou  didst  think  to  obtain  possession  of  my  estates.  Buti 
I  have  balked  thy  rapacity.  My  royal  master  yielded  to 
my  prayer,  and  allowed  me  to  bestow  them  upon  the  prince, 
his  son — and  they  were  a  gift  that  not  even  a  monarch  might 
disdain. ' ' 

' '  We  thank  you  much  for  your  consideration  of  us,  my 
lord  duke,"  said  Edward,  *' though  we  had  rather  you  had 
been  influenced  by  better  motives  than  appear  to  have  governed 
your  conduct  in  the  affair.  Howbeit,  we  are  beholden  to 
you,  and  to  prove  our  gratitude  we  hereby  offer  you  a  full 
pardon. ' ' 

'  *  Sire  ! ' '  exclaimed  Hertford,  startled. 

**  Interrupt  us  not,  we  pray  your  Highness,"  continued  the 
king,  with  much  dignity.  **  We  offer  your  Grace  a  free  par- 
don, ' '  he  added,  to  the  duke,  who  awaited  the  conclusion  of 
his  address  with  deep  anxiety,  **but  we  must  clothe  it  with 
the  condition  that  you  renounce  your  errors,  and  embrace  the 
Protestant  faith." 

**Your  Majesty  hath  said  well,"  observed  the  lord  pro- 
tector, approvingly. 

"What  answer  makes  your  Grace?  "  asked  Edward  of  the 
duke. 

*' Your  Majesty's  pardon  will  avail  me  little,"  replied  Nor- 
folk, shaking  his  head.  "I  attribute  the  heavy  afflictions 
with  which  it  has  pleased  Heaven  to  visit  me  to  my  toleration 
of  many  matters  contrary  to  my  conscience — but  I  will  sin  no 
>more  in  this  manner.  I  will  not  change  the  belief  in  which 
I  have  been  nurtured,  even  to  purchase  liberty  and  the  restora- 
tion of  my  wealth  and  honors. ' ' 


1 64  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

*  *■  Your  Grace  is  very  stubborn, ' '  remarked  Edward,  with  a 
look  of  displeasure. 

*'It  is  idle  to  argue  with  him,  sire,"  said  the  lord  pro- 
tector. **  Severer  measures  might  work  his  conversion,  and 
these  shall  be  adopted  if  your  Highness  wills  it." 

*■  *■  Try  them, ' '  cried  Norfolk.  *  <  Bring  the  sworn  tormentor 
here,  and  let  him  essay  his  implements  upon  me.  He  may 
wrench  my  joints  asunder,  but  he  shall  not  tear  me  from  the 
opinions  to  which  I  cling.  The  crucifix  is  graven  on  my 
heart  as  deeply  as  on  yonder  wall,  and  cannot  be  plucked 
forth,  save  with  life. ' ' 

At  this  juncture.  Sir  John  Gage  felt  it  behoved  him  to  inter- 
pose in  behalf  of  the  unfortunate  duke. 

**If  your  Majesty  will  listen  to  one  who  ever  spoke  fear- 
lessly to  your  august  father,"  said  the  worthy  constable,  **  and 
whose  sincerity  was  never  questioned,  though  his  bluntness 
may  sometimes  have  given  offence,  you  will  abandon  all  idea 
of  making  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  a  proselyte.  Neither  by  fair 
means  nor  foul  will  his  grace's  conversion  be  wrought." 

*'You  are  in  the  right,  good  Sir  John,"  cried  the  duke. 
"  I  will  die  for  my  faith,  if  need  be,  but  I  will  not  for- 
sake it. ' ' 

* '  It  will  be  labor  in  vain,  therefore, ' '  continued  the  con- 
stable, ^*to  proceed  in  a  task  impossible  of  accomplishment. 
More  than  this,  the  course  will  be  fraught  with  consequences 
inauspicious  to  the  commencement  of  your  reign,  as  I  will  ven- 
ture to  point  out.  The  adherents  to  the  old  faith — of  whom  I 
am  one — would  consider  any  undue  rigor  shown  their  chief,  as 
they  still  regard  his  Grace  of  Norfolk,  on  account  of  his  re- 
ligion, as  a  blow  aimed  at  themselves,  and  as  an  ensample  of 
what  they  may  in  turn  expect ;  whereby  the  minds  of  half, 
nay,  more  than  half,  your  now  loving  and  loyal  subjects  will 
be  estranged,  discontent  will  speedily  manifest  itself,  and 
troubles  ensue,  not  easily  quelled,  and  greatly  perplexing  to 
the  government.     Entertaining  this  view  of  the   matter,   I 


Chap.  A-]  KING  EDIVARD   VISITS  NORFOLK  165 

humbly  advise  your  Majesty  not  to  meddle  with  his  Grace  of 
Norfolk's  religion.  By  making  a  martyr  of  him,  you  will 
only  serve  the  cause  you  desire  to  put  down. ' ' 

* '  If  your  Highness  is  bent  on  making  a  proselyte  of  the 
duke,  try  what  reasoning  and  persuasion  will  do  before  having 
recourse  to  extreme  measures,"  remarked  Sir  Thomas  Sey- 
mour.     *'  Let  his  Grace  of  Canterbury  be  sent  to  him." 

**  I  will  not  see  Cranmer,"  cried  Norfolk,  sharply.  **  He 
is  my  abhorrence.  If  he  be  forced  upon  me  I  will  shut  mine 
ears  to  his  discourse,  and  utter  no  word  in  reply. ' ' 

**What  is  to  be  done  with  such  a  stiff-necked  bigot?" 
exclaimed  the  lord  protector,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  *  *  Com- 
passion is  thrown  away  upon  him. ' ' 

**  If  the  duke's  long  services  cannot  procure  him  any  miti- 
gation of  his  sentence,"  remarked  the  constable,  *'at  least 
let  him  enjoy  his  opinions  undisturbed.  Here,  in  this  dungeon, 
they  can  harm  no  one  save  himself. ' ' 

''  I  love  his  Grace  of  Norfolk  sufficiently  to  feel  great  con- 
cern for  the  welfare  of  his  soul,"  observed  Edward.  "I 
do  not  despair  of  opening  his  eyes  to  his  errors,  and  rescuing 
him,  even  at  the  eleventh  hour,  from  perdition.  The  separa- 
tion of  one  so  eminent  from  the  communion  of  Rome  would 
redound  to  the  honor  of  the  Reformed  Church,  and  I  have 
set  my  heart  upon  effecting  it.  The  greater  the  difficulty,  the 
greater  will  be  the  merit. ' ' 

'*I  am  glad  to  hear  your  Highness  announce  such  praise- 
worthy intentions,"  said  Hertford.  '*They  are  sure  to  give 
satisfaction  to  the  majority  of  your  subjects. ' ' 

'*  Again  I  implore  your  Majesty  to  forbear,"  cried  Gage. 
*'You  are  ill  advised  to  commence  your  rule  with  persecu- 
tion." 

''How,  Sir  John!"  exclaimed  the  lord  protector.  "Do 
you  dare  impugn  my  counsel  ? ' ' 

''Ay,"  rejoined  the  constable,  firmly.  "Moreover,  I  dare 
bid  you  take  heed,  lest  you  pull  about  your  ears  the  house  you 


1 66  THE   COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOURER  [Book  I 

have  but  newly  reared.  Body  o*  me !  I  dared  speak  my 
mind  to  King  Harry,  of  whom  I  stood  in  some  awe;  and 
think  you  I  shall  not  dare  to  utter  it  to  your  Highness,  of 
whom  I  stand  in  none?     Nay,  marry,  but  I  will." 

* '  Sir  John  !  good  Sir  John  !  I  pray  you  moderate  yourself, ' ' 
cried  Norfolk.  **  If  I  should  unhappily  be  the  means  of  drag- 
ging you  into  the  pit  into  which  I  have  fallen  myself,  it  will 
aggravate  my  affliction.  Let  my  enemies  work  their  will 
against  me.  I  can  bear  it  all  without  a  murmur.  But  let  me 
not  feel  that  I  have  harmed  a  friend. ' ' 

'  *  Let  me  join  my  entreaties  to  those  of  Sir  John  Gage,  that 
your  Highness  pursue  this  matter  no  further  for  the  present, ' ' 
said  Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  * 'Above  all,  let  not  any  warmth 
of  temper  which  the  worthy  constable  may  have  displayed 
prejudice  him  in  your  eyes." 

**  Nay,  if  my  wise  father  could  overlook  Sir  John's  impetu- 
osity, in  consideration  of  his  worth,  I  am  not  like  to  be  more 
particular,"  replied  Edward.  **But  he  should  reflect  that 
by  over-zeal  he  may  injure  his  own  cause." 

'*  Rebuke  so  just  and  yet  so  temperate,  proceeding  from  lips 
so  young,  shows  what  may  be  expected  from  your  Highness' s 
mature  judgment,"  replied  the  constable.  **  I  thank  you  for 
the  lesson,  and  will  lay  it  carefully  to  heart. '  * 

"  Let  me  not  be  backward  in  acknowledging  that  my  own 
hastiness  occasioned  Sir  John's  display  of  temper,"  said  the 
lord  protector,  **and  therefore  your  Majesty's  just  rebuke  ap- 
plies to  me  as  well  as  to  him.  I  pray  you  to  forgive  me,  good 
Sir  John." 

''Nay,  your  Highness  makes  more  of  the  matter  than  it 
needs,"  rejoined  the  constable,  heartily. 

"  Since  they  are  all  making  friends,  the  real  cause  of  the 
quarrel  will  be  overlooked,"  whispered  Xit,  who  was  still 
with  the  royal  party,  to  Sir  Thomas  Seymour. 

* '  Peace,  knave  ! ' '   cried  the  latter,  sharply. 

"My  indiscretion,  I  trust,  hath  not  prejudiced  the  duke's 


Chap,  X^  KING  EDIVARD   VISITS  NORFOLK  167 

cause  with  your  Majesty,"  said  Sir  John  Gage.  *^  If  so,  I 
shall  deeply  lament  it." 

'^  Set  your  mind  at  ease  on  that  score,  good  Sir  John,"  re- 
turned Edward.  **  Second  thoughts,  they  say,  are  best,  and 
on  reflection,  I  have  decided  upon  leaving  his  Grace  of 
Norfolk  to  the  free  indulgence  of  his  own  religious  opinions, 
erroneous  and  pernicious  as  I  feel  them  to  be.  If  any  change 
comes  over  him,  I  shall  hail  it  with  the  liveliest  satisfaction — 
with  the  joy  of  the  shepherd  at  the  return  of  a  lost  sheep. 
Means  shall  not  be  wanting  towards  this  end,  and  good  books 
shall  be  provided  for  him.  It  grieves  me  that  I  cannot  hold 
out  any  promise  of  liberation  to  his  grace.  So  long  as  he  en- 
tertains these  opinions  he  must  remain  a  prisoner.  It  might 
be  injurious  to  the  well-being  of  our  Church  to  let  so  power- 
ful an  enemy  go  free. ' ' 

**I  am  content,  and  humbly  thank  your  Majesty,"  replied 
the  duke,  bowing  his  head  in  resignation. 

**  I  must  repeat,"  said  Edward,  preparing  to  depart,  '*  that 
it  will  be  your  Grace's  own  fault  if  you  be  not  speedily  liber- 
ated, and  restored  to  favor." 

Norfolk  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and  bowed  reverentially 
as  the  king  and  his  attendants  departed. 

Soon  afterwards,  the  door  was  barred  on  the  outside  by 
Tombs.  On  hearing  the  noise  of  the  bolts  shot  into  their 
sockets,  the  unfortunate  prisoner  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  then 
took  up  his  mallet  and  chisel. 

*' Men's  hearts  are  harder  than  this  stone,"  he  muttered, 
as  he  resumed  his  sad  and  solitary  task.  ''Something  tells 
me  that  boy's  reign  will  be  a  short  one.  If  it  shall  please 
Heaven  to  spare  me  to  see  the  right  succession  restored  in  the 
person  of  Mary,  and  the  old  belief  brought  back,  I  shall  die 
happy ! " 


1 68  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  I 


CHAPTER  XI 


SHOIVING  HOIV  SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR  PROSPERED 
IN  HIS  SUIT 

Towards  evening,  on  the  same  day,  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth and  her  escort,  accompanied  by  her  governess,  Mistress 
Catherine  Ashley,  and  the  young  king's  preceptors.  Sir  John 
Cheke  and  Doctor  Cox,  arrived  at  the  Tower.  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  who  had  been  on  the  watch  for  more  than  an  hour, 
and  whose  impatience  by  this  time  had  risen  almost  to  fever 
heat,  no  sooner  beheld  the  troop  of  arquebusiers,  with  the 
princess  at  its  head,  crossing  Tower  Hill,  than  he  flew  to  meet 
her,  and  continued  by  the  side  of  her  palfrey  as  she  entered 
the  gates  of  the  fortress. 

Elizabeth  blushed  deeply  as  her  handsome  suitor  drew 
nigh,  and  exhibited  a  confusion  from  which  Seymour  drew 
a  favorable  augury.  Moreover,  his  anticipations  of  success 
were  confirmed  by  the  glance  he  received  from  his  esquire, 
who  rode  behind  the  princess  with  Mistress  Ashley  and  the 
young  king's  preceptors — a  glance  that  proclaimed  as  plainly 
as  words,  that  all  had  gone  on  smoothly  and  satisfactorily. 

Never  had  Seymour  looked  more  captivating  to  female  eye 
than  on  this  occasion.  When  he  chose  to  exert  the  full  force 
of  his  remarkable  attractions,  he  was  almost — as  his  esquire 
had  described  him — irresistible.     Elizabeth  now  found  him  so. 

Some  months  previously,  during  the  late  king's  lifetime, 
perceiving  that  the  fair  young  princess  deigned  to  cast  her 
regards  upon  him.  Sir  Thomas,  whose  temerity  was  equal 
to  his  good  looks,  had  not  hesitated  to  declare  his  passion. 
The  declaration,  however,  was  but  coldly  received,  and  he 
subsequently  yielded   to   the  temptings   of  ambition  which 


Chap.  A-/]        SEYMOUR  PROSPERS  IN  HIS  SUIT  169 

pointed  out  the  queen- dowager  as  the  better  match.  At  the 
last  moment,  however,  and  when  he  was  all  but  committed  to 
Catherine,  his  passion  for  Elizabeth  revived  with  greater 
intensity  than  ever,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  decided  him,  at  the 
risk  of  losing  the  prize  of  which  he  felt  secure,  to  make 
a  final  attempt  to  win  her. 

On  the  princess's  part,  whatever  prudent  resolutions  she 
might  have  formed,  and  however  decided  the  refusal  she 
designed  to  give,  her  determination  failed  her  at  the  sight  of 
her  resistless  admirer,  and  she  listened  to  his  honeyed  words 
with  a  complacency  that  seemed  to  warrant  the  conclusions  he 
drew  as  to  her  improved  disposition  towards  him. 

*'Your  esquire,  Signor  Ugo,  is  an  Italian,  it  would  seem, 
Sir  Thomas? — ^at  least,  he  chiefly  spoke  that  language  to 
me, ' '  she  observed,  as  they  passed  through  the  gateway  of  the 
By-ward  Tower. 

* '  Mezzo-Italiano,  altezza,"  replied  Seymour,  smiling.  "A 
Tuscan  on  the  mother's  side." 

**  By  my  fay,  a  sprightly  galliard  !"  she  rejoined;  '*and 
much  devoted  to  you,  I  should  judge.  He  could  talk  of  little 
else  save  his  lord's  merits  and  noble  qualities,  and  harped 
so  much  upon  the  theme,  that  I  was  obliged  at  last  to  bid  him 
change  it,  or  hold  his  tongue. '  * 

' '  I  am  sorry  he  has  offended  your  Highness, ' '  returned 
Seymour.  **ln  future,  his  manners  shall  be  amended,  or 
he  shall  no  longer  continue  esquire  of  mine.  But  he  hath 
heard  me  speak  so  often  of  you,  and  in  such  terms,  that 
he  may  have  fancied  himself  in  duty  bound  to  extol  me 
to  your  Highness.     I  gave  him  credit  for  more  discretion. ' ' 

'*  Nay,  I  might  have  been  content  to  listen  to  his  praises  of 
you,  Sir  Thomas,"  observed  the  princess,  blushing.  *'But 
when  he  repeated  what  you  had  said  of  me,  I  deemed  it  time 
to  check  him.  Methinks  you  make  too  great  a  confidant 
of  this  galliard.  They  of  his  country  are  proverbially  faith 
less." 


I70  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOJVER  [Book  I 

**But  Ugo  is  only  half  Italian,  as  I  have  just  said," 
rejoined  Seymour,  '*and  I  have  bound  him  to  me  by  ties  of 
deepest  gratitude.  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  him 
faithful ;  but  your  Highness  may  rely  upon  it,  I  will  not 
trust  him  further  than  can  be  done  with  safety.  And  there 
are  some  secrets  I  shall  keep  sedulously  guarded  from  him. ' ' 

**You  have  given  him  a  key  to  one  he  ought  never  to 
have  been  intrusted  withal,"  remarked  Elizabeth,  half-re- 
proachfully. 

' '  Nay,  if  your  Highness  views  the  matter  thus  gravely, 
I  shall  indeed  be  angry  with  the  knave, '  *  rejoined  Seymour. 
'*  But  you  may  rest  quite  easy — whatever  he  may  suspect,  he 
knows  nothing  of  a  certainty. ' ' 

'*  I  am  not  to  be  deceived  on  that  score,"  returned  Eliza- 
beth. ^^  No  man  ever  spoke  as  that  galliard  did,  without 
authority  for  what  he  uttered. ' ' 

'*Hum!  the  impudent  varlet  must  have  gone  too  far," 
mentally  ejaculated  Seymour.  '*He  shall  never  offend  again 
in  like  sort,"  he  added,  aloud. 

^VTo  chide  him  will  not  mend  matters,"  said  the  princess. 
* '  If  anybody  deserves  reproof  for  presumption,  it  is  yourself. 
Sir  Thomas.     Signor  Ugo  is  the  mere  tool  of  his  lord. ' ' 

* '  Signor  Ugo  shall  pay  dearly  for  it,  if  he  loses  me  only  a 
feather's  weight  of  your  Highness' s  good  opinion,  which  I  value 
more  than  my  life, ' '  cried  Seymour.  ^  *  If  I  have  been  too 
bold,  the  force  of  my  passion  must  plead  my  excuse.  Since 
I  last  beheld  your  Highness  at  Enfield,  your  charms  have  had 
such  an  effect  upon  me  that  my  judgment  has  scarce  been 
under  my  own  control.  Every  thought  has  been  given  to 
you — every  emotion  has  been  influenced  by  you.  My  exist- 
ence hangs  on  your  breath.  It  is  for  you  to  make  me  the 
proudest  and  the  happiest  of  men,  or  to  plunge  me  into  the 
lowest  depths  of  despair. ' ' 

''No  more  of  this,  I  pray  you,  Sir  Thomas,"  replied  the 
princess,  her  bosom  palpitating  quickly,  for  she  was  not  in- 


Chap.Xn        SEYMOUR  PROSPERS  IN  HIS  SUIT  171 

sensible  to  his  ardor.  ' '  You  will  draw  the  eyes  of  the  by- 
standers upon  us,  and  some  sharp  and  curious  ear  may  catch 
your  words. ' ' 

'  *  Nay,  condemn  me  not  to  silence  till  I  have  learnt  my 
fate!"  cried  Seymour,  in  accents  trembling  with  emotion, 
which  was  communicated  to  the  princess  as  he  approached  her 
saddle.  **  Idolo  del  mio  cuore  !  what  response  do  you 
vouchsafe  to  my  letter  ?  Speak,  I  implore  you,  and  put  me 
out  of  my  misery. ' ' 

** To-morrow  I  will  decide,"  said  Elizabeth,  in  tones  al- 
most as  tremulous  as  his  own." 

*'No,  now — now,  adorata!"  cried  Seymour,  pressing  still 
closer  towards  her,  and  essaying  to  take  her  hand. 

At  this  critical  juncture  the  warning  voice  of  his  esquire 
reached  him.  They  were  now  not  far  from  the  entrance  of 
the  palace. 

"  Zitto  !  zitto  !  monsignore,"  cried  Ugo.  '*  Eccola  11  ! — 
alia  finestra  del  palazzo — la  Regina  Caterina  !" 

Roused  by  the  caution,  Seymour  looked  up,  and,  to  his  in- 
finite annoyance  and  dismay,  beheld  Queen  Catherine  Parr, 
with  the  Countess  of  Hertford,  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset, 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  some  other  court  dames,  looking  down 
upon  them  from  the  open  casements  of  the  palace.  Though 
it  did  not  seem  possible  that  the  queen-dowager  could  have 
heard  what  was  passing  between  the  pair,  yet  the  enamored 
deportment  of  Seymour,  his  propinquity  to  the  princess,  and 
the  blushes  and  downcast  looks  of  the  latter,  seemed  scarcely 
to  leave  a  doubt  as  to  the  subject  of  their  discourse.  The 
scornful  and  indignant  glance  given  by  Catherine  to  Sir 
Thomas  satisfied  him  that  her  jealousy  was  awakened.  Eliza- 
beth looked  up  at  the  same  moment,  and  was  covered  with 
confusion  on  perceiving  so  many  eyes  directed  towards  her. 

*^  Retire  instantly,  I  entreat  you,  Sir  Thomas,"  she  said, 
hastily — **  you  have  placed  me  in  a  very  embarrassing  situa- 
tion." 


172  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  I 

'*  Heed  them  not,  fair  princess  !"  he  rejoined,  complying, 
however,  with  her  injunctions,  and  removing  from  her  side  ; 
"  they  will  merely  think  some  light  and  trivial  discourse  hath 
been  passing  between  us. " 

'*  The  queen,  my  stepmother,  looked  as  if  she  had  a  shrewd 
notion  of  the  truth,"  rejoined  Elizabeth. 

''It  maybe  well  to  lull  her  suspicions,"  said  Seymour. 
**  Treat  the  matter  lightly,  and  laugh  it  off,  if  she  questions 
your  Highness,  as  peradventure  she  may.  She  can  have  over- 
heard nothing,  so  you  are  quite  safe  on  that  head." 

In  another  moment  they  reached  the  entrance  of  the  pal- 
ace, near  which  the  three  gigantic  warders  were  stationed, 
Edward  having  expressly  commanded  that,  during  his  stay  at 
the  Tower,  they  should  be  constantly  placed  on  guard  there. 
A  crowd  of  henchmen,  pages,  ushers,  grooms,  and  other  func- 
tionaries had  issued  from  the  palace  as  soon  as  the  princess's 
arrival  at  the  fortress  was  announced,  and  they  were  now 
drawn  up  at  the  foot  of  the  perron  leading  to  the  principal 
door  to  receive  her.  Alighting  from  her  palfrey  with  the  aid 
of  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  Elizabeth  entered  the  palace  with 
Mistress  Ashley,  and  was  ceremoniously  ushered  by  the  mar- 
shal of  the  hall  into  the  apartment  assigned  her.  After 
making  some  slight  change  in  her  apparel,  she  descended  to 
one  of  the  state-rooms,  where  she  was  informed  by  Fowler  she 
would  find  her  royal  brother.  Edward  was  impatiently  ex- 
pecting her,  and  on  her  appearance  he  flew  to  meet  her,  em- 
braced her  tenderly,  and  gave  her  a  hearty  welcome  to  the 
Tower. 

Scarcely  had  the  amiable  young  monarch's  raptures  at  the 
sight  of  his  dearly-loved  sister  subsided  into  calm  satisfaction, 
when  he  found  a  new  subject  for  delight  in  the  appearance  of 
his  two  tutors.  To  the  infinite  astonishment  of  Fowler,  who 
would  have  expressed  his  courtly  dissatisfaction  at  the  pro- 
ceeding, if  he  had  dared,  he  ran  towards  them  as  he  had 
flown  to  Elizabeth,  and  gave  them  both  a  very  affectionate 


Chap.  XI ;\        SEYMOUR  PROSPERS  IN  HIS  SUIT  173 

and  unceremonious  greeting.  Taking  them  kindly  by  the 
hand,  he  prevented  them  from  kneeling,  saying  with  much 
benignity,  '  *  I  have  received  you  in  private,  my  respected 
preceptors,  because  I  wish  all  ceremony  to  be  dispensed  with 
in  regard  to  friends  I  so  entirely  love  and  esteem  as  your- 
selves. As  far  as  possible,  I  desire  our  old  relations  to  con- 
tinue. At  the  earliest  opportunity  I  shall  resume  my  studies 
with  you,  and  while  so  employed  I  shall  altogether  lay  aside 
the  king,  and  be  again  your  pupil.'* 

**  Such  words  have  rarely  issued  from  royal  lips,  sire,"  re- 
plied Sir  John  Cheke,  **and  do  as  much  credit  to  your  head 
as  to  the  heart  that  prompted  their  utterance." 

'*Do  not  flatter  me,  worthy  Sir  John,"  rejoined  Edward, 
smiling.  *  *  Now  that  I  have  got  you  with  me,  my  dear  pre- 
ceptors, and  my  sister  Elizabeth,"  he  added,  looking  affec- 
tionately at  her,  ^ '  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy,  and  care  not 
how  long  I  may  remain  at  the  Tower.  Since  I  have  been 
here,  Elizabeth, ' '  he  continued  to  the  princess,  who  had  now 
joined  the  group,  **  I  have  formed  a  strict  friendship  with  our 
cousin,  the  Lady  Jane  Grey.  Her  tastes,  in  all  matters,  co- 
incide with  my  own.  She  likes  reading,  and  is  very  devout. 
I  am  sure  you  will  love  her. ' ' 

"  I  am  quite  sure  I  shall  if  your  Highness  loves  her,"  re- 
plied the  princess. 

**  You  will  be  able  to  form  an  opinion  upon  her  at  once,  for 
here  she  comes,"  observed  Edward,  as  the  subject  of  their 
discourse  entered  the  chamber  with  the  queen -dowager,  the 
Marchioness  of  Dorset,  the  Countess  of  Hertford,  and  most 
of  the  other  court  dames  who  had  witnessed  the  princess's 
arrival  from  the  windows  of  the  palace. 

Catherine's  manner  towards  her  stepdaughter  was  cold  and 
constrained,  and  her  greeting  anything  but  cordial.  On  her 
side,  Elizabeth  was  no  less  distant  and  haughty.  Her  pride 
was  instantly  roused  by  the  queen-dowager's  treatment,  and 
she  resented  it  with  great  spirit.     Besides,  she  instinctively 


174  Tf^E   COhlSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  I 

recognized  a  rival,  and  this  feeling  sharpened  her  sense  of 
injury. 

As  yet,  Catherine  had  not  had  opportunity  of  upbraiding 
her  fickle  suitor  by  word  or  look,  but  in  the  very  midst 
of  the  scene  we  have  described  he  entered  the  chamber.  To 
keep  aloof  from  the  dispute  would  have  seemed  to  be  Sir 
Thomas's  wisest  course,  but  he  knew  better.  He  did  not 
miscalculate  the  extent  of  his  influence  upon  either  party.  At 
a  reassuring  smile  from  him,  the  frowns  vanished  as  if  by 
magic  from  Catherine's  brow,  and  her  countenance  resumed 
its  wonted  serenity.  At  a  glance,  perceptible  only  to  herself, 
.  Elizabeth  was  instantly  softened,  and  assumed  a  more  concilia- 
tory manner  and  tone  towards  her  stepmother.  Lady  Hert- 
ford noticed  this  sudden  and  striking  change,  and  failed  not 
to  attribute  it  to  the  true  cause.  An  unguarded  exclamation 
of  Catherine  on  beholding  Sir  Thomas's  marked  attention 
to  the  princess  on  the  arrival  of  the  latter  at  the  Tower,  had 
led  Lady  Hertford  to  suspect  the  truth,  and  subsequent  ob- 
servations confirmed  the  surmise.  Still  smarting  from  the 
affronts  she  had  received  from  the  queen -dowager,  she  now 
felt  that  revenge  was  in  her  power. 

Catherine's  coldness  and  asperity  towards  his  sister  had 
much  pained  the  amiable  young  monarch,  and  he  was  just 
about  to  interfere,  when  Seymour's  appearance  dispelled  the 
clouds,  and  turned  the  gloom  into  sunshine. 

''On  my  faith,  gentle  uncle,"  he  said,  with  a  smile,  ''yoa 
bring  good  humor  with  you.  We  seemed  on  the  verge  of  some 
incomprehensible  misunderstanding  here,  which  your  presence 
has  sufficed  to  set  right.     What  witchery  do  you  practise  ? ' ' 

* '  None  that  I  am  aware  of,  my  gracious  liege, ' '  replied  Sir 
Thomas.  ' '  But  were  I  an  enchanter,  my  spells  should  undo 
mischief,  not  work  it.  I  would  put  trust  in  the  place  of 
groundless  suspicion,  and  gentleness  in  that  of  inconsiderate 
heat.  By  so  doing,  I  might  justly  merit  your  Majesty's  com- 
mendation. " 


Chap.  Xl'\        SEYMOUR  PROSPERS  IN  HIS  SUIT  175 

*' You  give  yourself  a  good  character,  Sir  Thomas,"  ob- 
served Catherine,  with  some  remains  of  pique. 

'^  Not  better  than  he  is  fairly  entitled  to,  gracious  madam," 
observed  Edward.  *'  If  my  uncle  always  exercises  his  talent 
for  pleasing  as  beneficially  as  on  the  present  occasion,  he  has 
a  right  to  be  vain  of  it. ' ' 

'*An  please  your  Majesty,"  said  Fowler,  advancing  and 
bowing  profoundly,  **the  marshal  of  the  hall  hath  just 
entered  to  announce  to  your  Grace  that  the  banquet  is 
served. ' ' 

''Marry,  then,  we  will  to  it  at  once,"  replied  Edward. 
**  Fair  cousin,  your  hand,"  he  added,  to  the  Lady  Jane  Grey, 
**and  do  you,  gentle  uncle,  conduct  our  sister  to  the  ban- 
queting hall. ' ' 

Secretly  delighted,  though  drawing  a  discreet  veil  over  his 
satisfaction,  Seymour  immediately  tendered  his  hand  to  the 
princess,  much  to  the  mortification  of  Catherine ;  after  which 
the  whole  party,  preceded  by  a  troop  of  pages,  henchmen, 
ushers,  and  marshals,  repaired  to  the  banqueting  hall,  and 
entered  it  amid  lively  flourishes  from  the  trumpeters  stationed 
near  the  door. 

At  the  banquet,  the  queen-dowager  occupied  the  seat  next 
the  king,  to  which  she  had  asserted  her  claim  in  the  manner 
heretofore  narrated,  and  of  which  no  further  attempt  was 
made  by  the  lord  protector  to  deprive  her.  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  however,  no  longer  stood  behind  her  majesty's 
chair,  but  placed  himself  between  the  Princess  Elizabeth  and 
the  Countess  of  Hertford.  Nothing  of  moment  occurred 
at  the  entertainment,  which  was  on  the  same  scale  of  grandeur 
and  profusion  as  those  preceding  it,  and  which  numbered 
as  guests  all  the  members  of  the  council,  and  all  the  nobles  and 
other  persons  of  distinction  then  staying  at  the  Tower ;  but 
Catherine's  jealousy  was  re-awakened  by  the  ill-disguised 
attentions  of  Seymour  to  her  youthful  rival — attentions  which, 
it  was  quite  evident,  were  anything  but  disagreeable  to  the 


176  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  I 

princess.  The  slighted  queen  longed  for  an  opportunity 
of  launching  her  anger  against  them,  but  no  pretext  for  such 
an  outbreak  being  afforded  her,  she  was  obliged  to  devour 
her  rage  in  silence. 

Either  Sir  Thomas's  prudence  had  deserted  him,  or  the 
violence  of  his  passion  deprived  his  judgment  of  its  due 
control,  for  at  the  close  of  the  banquet  he  made  no  attempt  to 
join  Catherine,  but  again  gave  his  hand  to  the  princess, 
and  without  casting  even  a  look  at  the  neglected  queen,  or,  it 
may  be,  not  even  thinking  of  her,  followed  his  royal  nephew 
and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  out  of  the  hall.  Catherine  stood 
still  as  if  stupefied  by  his  conduct,  and  pressed  her  hand 
against  her  heart  to  keep  down  the  force  of  her  emotions. 
She  had  not  entirely  recovered  when  Lady  Hertford  ap- 
proached her. 

*'  Methinks  I  can  guess  what  is  passing  in  your  Highness' s 
breast,"  observed  the  countess. 

**What  insolence  is  this?"  cried  Catherine,  haughtily. 
"By  what  right  do  you  pretend  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of 
my  breast  ? ' ' 

'*  Nay,  it  is  your  Highness' s  unguarded  manner  that  betrays 
the  state  of  your  feelings,"  rejoined  Lady  Hertford.  '*  Little 
penetration  is  requisite  to  discover  that  which  must  be  appar- 
ent to  all.  My  friendly  intentions  did  not  deserve  •  this 
rebuff.  I  came  to  warn  you  that  you  are  deceived — basely 
deceived  by  him  in  whom  you  place  your  trust.  I  overheard 
enough  at  the  banquet  to  convince  me  of  this.  I  could  tell 
more — ^but  my  lips  are  now  sealed. ' ' 

"No!  no!  speak! — speak!  I  implore  you,  dear  coun- 
tess," cried  Catherine,  in  extreme  agitation.  "You  sat 
next  him,  and  must  have  heard  what  passed — in  pity,  speak  ! ' ' 

"Compose  yourself,  I  pray  your  Highness,"  replied  Lady 
Hertford,  secretly  enjoying  her  distress,  though  feigning 
sympathy.  "I  feel  for  your  situation,  and  will  lend  you 
help,  if  you  are  disposed  to  receive  it.     If  you  would  effectu- 


Chap,  XI']        SEYMOUR  PROSPERS  IN  HIS  SUIT  177 

ally  cure  yourself  of  this  unworthy  passion — for  so  I  must 
needs  call  it,  though  Sir  Thomas  is  my  husband's  brother 
— which  you  have  allowed  to  obtain  dominion  over  you, 
go  to-morrow  at  noon  to  Lady  Herbert's  chamber  in  the 
north  gallery,  and  you  shall  hear  enough  to  convince  you 
of  your  lover's  perfidy." 

' '  Hath  Elizabeth  agreed  to  meet  him  there  ?  * '  demanded 
Catherine,  becoming  as  white  as  ashes. 

"  Your  Highness  will  see,"  rejoined  Lady  Hertford.  '*  If 
you  will  leave  the  matter  to  me,  I  will  contrive  that  you  shall 
be  an  unseen  and  unsuspected  witness  of  the  interview. ' ' 

*' Do  what  you  will,  countess,'*  said  Catherine.  ''Prove 
him  forsworn,  and  I  will  stifle  every  feeling  I  have  for  him, 
even  if  I  expire  in  the  effort. ' ' 

''Proof  shall  not  be  wanting,  trust  me,"  replied  Lady 
Hertford.  "  But  I  do  this  in  the  hope  of  curing  your  High- 
ness, and  from  no  other  motive. ' ' 

"  I  know  it,  and  I  shall  be  forever  beholden  to  you,"  re- 
joined the  wounded  queen,  gratefully. 

"  It  will  be  needful  to  the  full  success  of  the  plan  that  your 
Highness  put  constraint  upon  yourself  during  the  rest  of 
the  evening,"  observed  Lady  Hertford.  "Let  not  Sir 
Thomas  or  the  Lady  Elizabeth  fancy  they  are  suspected. ' ' 

"  The  task  will  be  difficult,"  sighed  Catherine,  "but  I  will 
strive  to  perform  it." 

"  Doubt  not  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word,"  said  Lady 
Hertford.  "Your  Highness  shall  be  present  at  the  rendez- 
vous, and  shall  have  the  power  to  surprise  them,  if  you  see  fit. 
I  now  humbly  take  leave  of  your  Grace. ' '  And  she  mentally 
ejaculated,  as  she  quitted  the  queen,  "At  length  I  have  avenged 
the  affront !  No,  not  altogether — ^but  to-morrow  it  shall  be 
fully  wiped  out." 


12 


178  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  IBookl 


CHAPTER  XII 

OF  THE  JNTERyjElV  BETIVEEN  SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR  AND 
THE  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH;  AND  HOIV  IT  IVAS  INTER- 
RUPTED 

Next  morning,  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  did  not  quit  his  cham- 
ber in  the  Wardrobe  Tower  until  close  upon  the  hour  ap- 
pointed for  his  interview  with  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  Full 
of  ardor,  and  confident  of  success,  he  then  prepared  to  set 
forth.  Ugo  Harrington,  who  had  assisted  him  to  decorate 
his  person,  and  just  before  his  departure  had  handed  him  a 
pair  of  perfumed  gloves,  attended  him  to  the  door,  and  wished 
him  ' '  buona  riuscita. ' '  But  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the 
esquire's  look  was  in  entire  accordance  with  the  sentiment  he 
expressed.  There  was  more  of  malice  in  his  smile  than  good 
will. 

As  Seymour  traversed  the  long  and  winding  corridors  of 
the  palace  in  the  direction  of  the  apartments  assigned  to  his 
sister,  Lady  Herbert,  his  stately  figure  and  superb  attire  at- 
tracted the  admiration  of  the  various  subordinate  officers  of 
the  household  thronging  the  galleries,  and,  with  one  accord, 
they  agreed  that  he  was  the  noblest  personage  about  the 
court. 

*'  Sir  Thomas  looks  as  brave  as  a  king, ' '  observed  a  master- 
cook,  who  was  dressed  in  damask  satin,  with  a  chain  of  gold 
about  his  neck. 

*'His  highness  the  lord  protector  cannot  compare  with 
him,"  remarked  an  equally  gaily-attired  clerk  of  the  kitchen. 

'*A11  the  court  ladies  and  gentlewomen,  they  say,  are  dying 
of  love  for  him — and  no  wonder !"  said  a  spruce  clerk  of  the 
spicery. 


Chap.  XII 2  AN  INTERRUPTED  WTERyiElV  179 

'*  You  should  see  him  in  the  tilt-yard,  good  sirs,"  quoth 
a  fat  sewer  of  the  hall. 

**  Or  in  the  manage,  or  the  fencing  school,"  observed  a  tall 
henchman.  '^  No  man  can  put  a  horse  through  his  paces,  or 
handle  the  rapier,  like  Sir  Thomas  Seymour. ' ' 

*'  The  king's  highness  ought  to  bestow  the  Lady  Elizabeth's 
Grace  in  marriage  upon  him,"  observed  a  simpering  page. 
** There  is  none  other  so  worthy  of  her." 

''That  may  be,  or  it  may  not,"  said  Xit,  who  was  stand- 
ing among  the  group.  *'  When  the  curtain  is  raised,  then 
what  is  behind  it  shall  be  disclosed,"  he  added,  mysteri- 
ously. 

*'What  mean' St  thou  by  that,  little  Solon?"  cried  the 
page.  * '  Wouldst  intimate  that  thou  knowest  more  than  we 
who  are  in  constant  attendance  on  his  majesty?  " 

* '  What  I  know,  I  know — and  it  shall  never  be  confided  to 
thee,  on  that  thou  mayst  depend, ' '  rejoined  Xit. 

**  This  dandiprat's  conceit  is  insufferable,"  cried  the  page. 
"Since  he  hath  been  appointed  the  king's  dwarf,  he  gives 
himself  the  airs  of  a  Spanish  grandee.  I  vote  we  drive  him 
from  our  company. ' ' 

''Attempt  it  at  thy  peril,  proud  minion,"  retorted  Xit, 
fiercely,  laying  his  hand  upon  the  hilt  of  the  miniature  weapon 
with  which  he  had  been  provided.  "  I  stir  not,  and,  by  our 
lady  !  he  who  touches  me  shall  rue  his  harshness." 

"  Ha !  what  is  this  ? ' '  cried  Fowler,  who  chanced  to 
be  passing  at  the  moment — "a  brawl  near  the  presence- 
chamber  !  By  the  rood  !  you  must  mend  your  manners,  my 
masters,  or  some  of  ye  will  smart  for  it.  Ah  !  art  thou  there, 
my  merry  dapperling?"  he  added,  noticing  Xit.  "Come 
with  me.     The  king  hath  asked  for  thee. ' ' 

"Dost  mark  that,  sirrah  page?"  cried  Xit,  scornfully, 
to  his  opponent.  "If  I  be  not  fit  company  for  thee,  I 
am  for  thy  sovereign  lord  and  master.  An  thou  wait'st 
till  his  majesty  sends  for  thee,  thou  wilt  tarry  long  enough.    I 


i8o  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  1 

follow  on  the  instant,  worshipful  Master  Fowler,"  he  added, 
strutting  after  the  gentleman  of  the  privy-chamber,  amid 
the  laughter  and  jeers  of  the  pages  and  henchmen. 

Meanwhile,  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  had  reached  his  destina- 
tion, and  with  a  throbbing  heart  entered  the  waiting-chamber 
of  Lady  Herbert's  apartments.  Here  he  found  an  old 
porter,  who,  bowing  respectfully,  informed  him  that  her 
ladyship,  his  sister,  was  without  at  the  moment,  but  would 
return  anon. 

**I  will  await  her  coming,  Thopas,"  said  Sir  Thomas, 
proceeding  towards  the  inner  apartment. 

*'Nay,  there  are  two  ladies  in  that  room.  Sir  Thomas," 
cried  the  porter. 

*'Are  they  young  or  old,  Thopas?"  inquired  Seymour. 

''As  to  the  matter  of  that.  Sir  Thomas,  I  should  judge  one 
of  them  to  be  neither  old  nor  young,  but  betwixt  and 
between,  as  we  may  say,  though  she  is  still  a  comely  dame. 
But  the  other  I  take  to  be  young,  though  I  cannot  speak 
positively,  seeing  that  her  face  was  muffled  up,  but  her  gait 
and  figure  were  those  of  a  buxom  damsel. ' ' 

*'  I  will  in  and  resolve  the  point,"  said  Seymour,  smiling  at 
the  old  man's  description  of  the  princess  and  her  govern- 
ess. And  lifting  aside  the  arras,  he  entered  the  adjoining 
chamber. 

It  was  a  large  room,  hung  with  costly  tapestry  and  silken 
stuffs,  the  latter  embellished  with  golden  birds  deftly  wrought 
in  needlework,  while  the  arras  was  covered  with  roses,  fleurs- 
de-lys,  and  lions.  Over  the  high,  carved  chimney-piece  was 
placed  a  life-like  portrait  of  Henry  VIII. ,  painted  by  Holbein, 
by  whom  the  chimney-piece  had  likewise  been  designed. 
The  roof  was  of  oak,  ornamented  with  grotesque  figures. 
The  chamber  was  lighted  by  a  deep  oriel  window  filled  with 
stained  glass,  and  in  this  recess,  at  a  table  covered  with 
a  Turkey  carpet,  sat  two  ladies,  one  of  whom,  it  is  almost 
needless  to  state,  was  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  the  other 


Chap.  XII '\  y4N  INTERRUPTED  INTER^IEIV  i8i 

her  governess,  Mistress  Ashley.  Of  the  latter  it  may  be 
observed,  that  she  was  amiable  and  accomplished,  but  fool- 
ishly indulgent  to  the  caprices  of  her  somewhat  headstrong 
pupil,  of  whom  she  was  dotingly  fond,  and  who  did  just  what 
she  pleased  with  her. 

Mistress  Ashley  was  seated  at  the  bottom  of  the  recess,  and 
was  so  much  occupied  with  her  book  that  it  is  to  be  presumed 
she  did  not  remark  Sir  Thomas  Seymour's  entrance.  At  all 
events,  she  neither  looked  up  then,  nor  raised  her  eyes  during 
the  subsequent  interview  between  the  princess  and  her  suitor. 
What  use  she  made  of  her  ears  we  pretend  not  to  deter- 
mine.    The  lovers  gave  themselves  little  concern  about  her. 

On  beholding  Sir  Thomas,  Elizabeth  arose  and  came  for- 
ward to  meet  him.  Seymour  immediately  threw  himself  at 
her  feet. 

**  Rise,  Sir  Thomas,"  she  cried.  '*  I  cannot  listen  to  you 
in  this  posture. ' ' 

*' Pardon  me  if  I  disobey  you,  sweet  saint!"  cried  Sey- 
mour, passionately.  **A  suppliant  at  your  shrine,  I  cannot 
rise  till  my  prayers  are  heard.  Forbid  me  not  thus  humbly  to 
pay  my  vows  to  you — to  tell  you  how  deeply  and  devotedly  I 
love  you  ! ' ' 

"  Nay,  in  good  sooth,  I  must  be  obeyed,"  rejoined  Eliza- 
beth, in  a  tone  not  to  be  disputed. 

*'Have  I  become  indifferent  to  you?"  cried  Seymour, 
rising,  and  assuming  a  despairing  tone.  *  *  Have  I  deluded 
myself  with  the  notion  that  my  love  was  requited  ?  * ' 

'  *  If  I  loved  you  not.  Sir  Thomas,  I  should  not  be  here, ' ' 
she  rejoined. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Seymour  refrained  from  cast- 
ing himself  again  at  her  feet. 

''Never  were  syllables  more  grateful  to  mortal  ear  than 
those  you  have  uttered,  sweet  princess,"  he  cried.  *'  Repeat 
them  !  oh  repeat  them !  I  can  scarce  believe  I  have  heard 
aright." 


l82  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  I 

"You  make  me  feel  I  have  said  too  much  already,  Sir 
Thomas.  And  yet  I  desire  to  deal  frankly  with  you.  'Tis 
my  nature  to  be  candid. ' ' 

**I  know  it!  I  know  it !  Gladden  me  once  more  with 
those  words,  I  beseech  you  !     My  heart  thirsts  for  them. ' ' 

*'Then,  for  the  second  time,  I  will  own  I  love  you.  Sir 
Thomas.     Will  that  suffice  ? ' ' 

' '  Oh  !  how  shall  I  thank  you  for  the  happiness  you  confer 
upon  me  !  What  terms  can  I  employ  to  express  my  admira- 
tion of  your  matchless  beauty !  What  vows  can  I  utter  to 
attest  my  devotion  !  A  life  will  not  suffice  to  prove  it — ^but 
my  whole  life  shall  be  dedicated  to  you  ! ' ' 

"  You  would  have  me  then  believe  that  I  am  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  your  affections.  Sir  Thomas  ? ' '  she  said,  looking  search- 
ingly  at  him. 

'*Can  you  for  a  moment  doubt  it,  fair  princess?"  he 
rejoined.     **  No  !  my  whole  heart  is  given  to  you." 

*'  Perchance  my  suspicions  may  be  unfounded,  so  I  will  try 
to  dismiss  them.  Report  speaks  of  you  as  a  general  admirer 
of  our  sex.  Sir  Thomas. ' ' 

'  *  Report  speaks  falsely,  as  it  ordinarily  does,  fair  princess, 
if  it  would  imply  that  I  admire  a  beautiful  woman  more  than 
I  should  a  glorious  picture  or  a  nobly-sculptured  statue.  A 
lovely  woman  delights  my  eye,  but  only  as  a  fair  object  to 
gaze  upon." 

''  Do  you  class  the  queen,  my  stepmother,  among  the  fair 
women  whom  you  merely  gaze  upon  as  you  would  at  a  picture 
or  a  statue.  Sir  Thomas  ? ' '   demanded  Elizabeth. 

'*  Undoubtedly,"  he  replied.  "  Her  majesty's  beauty  ex- 
cites no  stronger  feeling  in  me.  But  I  cannot  look  upon  you 
unmoved,  fair  princess." 

Something  like  a  sigh  at  this  moment  reached  the  ears  of 
the  pair,  but  they  did  not  heed  it,  supposing  the  aspiration  to 
proceed  from  Mistress  Ashley. 

**  Mistrust  me  not,  I  implore  you,  fair  princess  !"  continued 


Chap.  XW^  AN  INTERRUPTED  INTERVIEIV  183 

Seymour,  anxious  to  dispel  any  doubts  yet  lingering  in  Eliza- 
beth's breast.  **  Queen  Catherine's  gracious  manner  towards 
me  has,  perchance,  called  forth  a  fervent  expression  of  grati- 
tude on  my  part,  which  may  have  been  mistaken  for  a  warmer 
feeling.     I  say  not  that  it  is  so,  but  such  may  be  the  case." 

*  *  The  qiieen  persuades  herself  you  love  her — of  that  I  am 
certain,"  said  Elizabeth.  **  Is  she  self-deceived,  or  deceived 
by  you  ?  " 

'*  Certes,  she  is  not  deceived  by  me.  But  I  cannot  answer 
for  any  self-delusion  practised  by  her  highness. ' ' 

''Hist!  what  was  that?"  exclaimed  Elizabeth.  '' Me- 
thought  I  heard  a  sigh." 

*'  Your  governess  must  be  much  moved  by  the  book  she  is 
reading,"  observed  Seymour.  **  'Tis  the  second  sigh  she  has 
heaved.  But  now  that  you  have  received  every  possible 
assurance  of  my  truth  and  constancy,  keep  me  no  longer,  I 
beseech  you,  in  suspense.  Am  I  to  leave  this  chamber  blest 
with  the  consciousness  that  I  may  call  you  mine,  or  must  I 
hide  my  head  in  despair  ?  ' ' 

*'  I  would  not  have  you  wholly  despair.  Sir  Thomas.  But 
you  must  be  content  to  wait.  I  am  too  young  to  think  of 
nuptials  yet.  Some  years  must  elapse  ere  I  can  take  a  hus- 
band. But  I  love  you  now,  and  do  not  think  I  shall  change 
my  mind.     That  is  all  I  can  say. ' ' 

'  *  Princess  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

'*  I  am  a  daughter  of  Henry  the  Eighth,"  continued  Eliza- 
beth, proudly,  *'  and  as  such  will  do  nothing  unworthy  of  my 
great  father,  or  of  myself.  Of  all  men  I  have  ever  beheld, 
you  are  the  noblest -looking.  Sir  Thomas.  To  you,  as  I  have 
already  frankly  confessed,  my  virgin  heart  hath  been  yielded. 
But  to  win  my  hand  you  must  rise,  for  I  will  never  wed  with 
one  inferior  to  myself  in  degree.  Were  you  in  your  brother's 
place — were  you  lord  protector  of  the  realm — I  would  not  say 
*nay'  to  your  suit.  But  unless  you  can  attain  a  position 
equally  eminent,  I  must  conquer  the  love  I  bear  you. ' ' 


l84  T^/ZE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  I 

*'  If  my  ambition  needed  any  spur,  your  words  would  fur- 
nish it,  princess,"  cried  Sir  Thomas.  "That  I  have  dared 
to  raise  my  eyes  to  your  Highness  is  a  proof  that  I  aspire  to 
greatness,  and  no  obstacle,  however  seemingly  insurmount- 
able, shall  prevent  me  from  obtaining  it.  I  need  scarcely  tell 
you,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice,  "that  I  am  the  king 
your  brother's  favorite  uncle,  and  that  if  I  choose  to  exert  the 
influence  I  have  over  my  royal  nephew,  the  dignity  you  have 
pointed  out  as  needful  to  the  claimant  of  your  hand  must  be 
mine.  As  my  consort,  your  Highness  shall  be  second  to  none 
in  the  kingdom. ' ' 

**  But  Edward  may  oppose  our  union,"  said  Elizabeth. 

"His  majesty  will  refuse  me  nothing — not  even  your 
hand,"  he  rejoined. 

"  But  the  lord  protector — and  the  council? " 

"All  obstacles  must  yield  to  determination." 

"  If  Edward  remains  under  the  lord  protector's  control, 
you  will  soon  lose  your  influence  over  him, ' '  observed  Eliza- 
beth. 

"Be  that  my  care  to  prevent,"  he  rejoined,  significantly. 
"  I  am  resolved  to  play  for  the  highest  stake,  and  to  win  it, 
or  lose  all.  But  to  gain  power  without  the  prize  that  alone 
would  render  power  valuable,  would  be  to  accomplish  nothing. 
I  am  content  to  wait  till  such  time  as  my  position  shall  enable 
me  to  ask  your  hand  in  marriage.  Meanwhile,  as  an  incite- 
ment to  present  eflbrt,  and  as  a  security  for  the  future,  I  pray 
you  let  us  plight  our  troth  together.  * ' 

"  I  like  not  to  bind  myself  so,"  hesitated  Elizabeth. 

"Nay,   I  beseech  you,  refuse  me  not!"  urged  Seymour. 

After  a  brief  internal  struggle,  during  which  her  lover 
pleaded  yet  more  ardently,  Elizabeth  yielded,  saying,  ' '  Be 
it  as  you  will.  What  I  have  said  I  will  abide  by.  Mistress 
Ashley  shall  witness  our  betrothal." 

With  this,  she  gave  her  hand  to  Seymour,  who  pressed  it 
to  his  lips,  and  they  were  proceeding  together  towards  the 


^U^abetl)  anh  Segmour  Wistovevtli  bg  Catl)erine 


''Nay,  I  beseech  you,  refuse  me  not?''  urged  Seymour. 

After  a  brief  internal  struggle,  during  which  her  lover 
pleaded  yet  more  ardently,  Elizabeth  yielded,  saying :  ''Be 
it  as  you  will.  What  I  have  said  I  will  abide  by.  Mistress 
Ashley  shall  witness  our  betrothal.'' 

"  With  this,  she  gave  her  hand  to  Seymour,  who  pressed 
it  to  his  lips,  *  *  -K-  when  a  piece  of  arras  on  the  right 
of  the  chamber  was  suddenly  drawn  aside,  and  Queen 
Catherine  stood  before  them. 


-d^ky«<^i 


Chap.  XIII'\  LADY  HERTFORD  BALKED  185 

recess  in  which  the  governess  was  still  seated,  when  a  piece 
of  arras  on  the  right  of  the  chamber  was  suddenly  drawn 
aside,  and  Queen  Catherine  stood  before  them. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

HOW  THE  COUNTESS  OF  HERTFORD  IV AS  BALKED  OF  HER 
REVENGE;  AND  IN  IVHAT  MANNER  XIT  SOUGHT  TO 
DIVERT  THE  KING 

The  injured  queen  was  pale  as  death.  But  her  eyes  flashed 
lightnings  upon  the  startled  pair,  and  she  looked  as  if  she 
would  willingly  annihilate  them.  Catherine  indeed  was  very 
terrible  at  this  moment,  and  it  required  no  little  courage  to 
meet  her  glances.  This  courage  Elizabeth  possessed  in  an 
eminent  degree,  and  though  somewhat  alarmed  on  the  infuri- 
ated queen's  first  appearance,  she  almost  instantly  recovered 
herself,  and  eyed  Catherine  with  a  glance  almost  as  ireful  and 
vindictive  as  her  own. 

Sir  Thomas  Seymour's  position  was  very  different,  and  in- 
finitely more  embarrassing.  By  this  unexpected  occurrence 
he  had  every  reason  to  fear  he  should  lose  both  Elizabeth  and 
the  queen.  By  the  latter  his  perfidy  had  evidently  been  de- 
tected— immediate  exposure  to  the  princess  in  all  probability 
awaited  him.  But  he  was  not  easily  daunted,  and  though 
the  situation  was  in  the  highest  degree  perplexing,  almost  des- 
perate, he  did  not  for  a  moment  lose  his  presence  of  mind. 

**  Hold  !"  cried  Catherine,  extending  her  hand  menacingly 
towards  them,  as  they  recoiled  on  beholding  her.  ' '  No  troth- 
plight  can  take  place  between  you.  I  forbid  it  in  the  name 
of  the  council.  Such  a  contract  would  be  in  direct  violation 
of  your  august  father's  will,  Elizabeth ;  and  by  the  reverence 
you  owe  his  memory,  I  charge  you  to  forbear. ' ' 


1 86  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  IBook  1 

**You  have  much  reverence  for  the  king  my  father's 
memory,  I  must  needs  own,  madam,"  rejoined  the  princess, 
scornfully. 

**  I  deserve  the  taunt,  but  it  comes  with  an  ill  grace  from 
your  lips,"  said  Catherine. 

' '  Why  with  an  ill  grace  from  mine  ? ' '  cried  Elizabeth. 
"  Methinks  no  one  hath  greater  right  than  myself  to  reproach 
King  Henry's  widow,  who,  forgetful  alike  of  decency  and 
duty,  seeks  to  dishonor  his  memory — so  far  as  dishonor  can 
attach  to  a  memory  so  glorious — ^by  a  marriage  with  another 
ere  yet  her  royal  husband's  body  is  laid  in  the  tomb." 

*' Princess  !"  interposed  Seymour,  *' you  mistake. " 

''What  makes  her  majesty  here,  if  she  be  not  brought  by 
jealousy?"  cried  Elizabeth.  '*  No,  I  do  not  mistake.  When 
her  grace  and  I  met  yesterday,  I  felt  I  had  a  rival.  Let  her 
deny  it  if  she  can. ' ' 

'*I  shall  not  attempt  to  deny  it,'*  replied  Catherine, 
with  dignity.  *'  I  have  been  deeply,  basely  deceived,  and 
bitterly  do  I  grieve  that  I  listened  to  the  voice  of  the 
tempter.  But  my  present  sufferings  may  serve  to  expiate 
my  error,  great  though  it  be.  May  you,  Elizabeth,  never 
feel  the  humiliation,  the  self-reproach,  the  anguish  I  now 
experience  !  I  will  not  attempt  to  palliate  my  conduct,  but 
I  may  say  that  throughout  this  kingdom  more  miserable  wife 
did  not,  and  could  not,  exist  than  the  unfortunate  Catherine 
Parr,  the  envied  consort  of  your  father.  King  Henry.  Evil 
was  the  hour  that,  dazzled  by  the  splendor  of  a  crown, 
and  confident  in  my  own  firmness  of  principle,  I  consented  to 
become  his  spouse !  Since  that  fatal  moment  I  have  known 
little  peace.  Anxiously  as  I  studied  my  fickle  husband's 
lightest  humors,  I  found  it  scarcely  possible  to  please  him, 
and  to  anger  him  would  have  insured  my  destruction.  Sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  I  was  constantly  exposed  to  secret 
machinations,  and  with  difficulty  escaped  them,  because  the 
king  ever  lent  ready  credence  to  charges  brought  against  me. 


Chap.  XIII 2  LADY  HERTFORD  BALKED  187 

Mine  was  a  wretched  existence — so  wretched  that,  though 
clothed  with  the  semblance  of  power,  I  would  gladly  have 
exchanged  lots  with  the  meanest  of  my  subjects.  No  love 
could  outlast  such  usage.  Terror  trampled  out  the  embers  of 
expiring  affection.  I  never  approached  my  terrible  husband 
but  with  constraint  and  dread,  uncertain  whether  I  might  not 
quit  him  for  the  scaffold.  What  wonder,  after  well-nigh  four 
years  of  such  misery,  when  the  days  of  my  suffering  drew' 
towards  a  close,  I  should  not  be  wholly  insensible  to  the 
attentions  of  one  who  seemed  to  pity  me,  and  feigned  to  adore 
me?  What  wonder,  when  death  at  last  released  me  from 
tyranny  almost  insupportable,  I  should  have  forgotten  that 
I  was  the  widow  of  a  great  king,  but  a  cruel  husband, 
and  ere  he,  who  had  more  than  once  menaced  me  with  death, 
and  had  even  ordered  the  warrant  for  my  execution,  was  laid 
in  the  grave,  should  have  half-promised  my  hand  to  him  who 
had  sworn  to  efface  my  previous  sufferings  by  a  life  of  devo- 
tion ?  What  wonder  I  should  be  beguiled  by  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  who  hath  the  glozing  tongue  of  the  serpent,  and 
who  is  as  fair-spoken  and  specious  as  he  is  perfidious? 
No  epithet  is  strong  enough  to  express  the  scorn  I  hold  him 
in.  My  conduct  may  not  be  wholly  free  from  censure,  and 
some,  as  you  have  done,  Elizabeth,  may  call  it  indecorous. 
But  what  respect  do  I  owe  to  the  memory  of  one  who  could 
treat  me  as  your  royal  father  treated  me  ?  Levity  was  never 
laid  to  my  charge,  and  I  was  ever  faithful  and  obedient 
and  conformable  to  the  king  in  all  things.  But  all  ties 
between  us  are  now  sundered.  I  owe  him  nothing — not  even 
regret.  I  seek  not  to  compare  myself  with  the  unhappy 
queens  who  have  gone  before  me,  but  it  ill  becomes  the 
daughter  of  Anne  Boleyn  to  reproach  Catherine  Parr. ' ' 

'*I  pray  your  Majesty  to  pardon  me  for  adding  to  your 
affliction,"  said  Elizabeth,  **but  I  have  been  as  basely  de- 
ceived as  yourself,"  she  added,  with  a  disdainful  glance  at 
Seymour. 


1 88  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  I 

*'  Before  your  Highness  condemns  me,  at  least  hear  what  I 
have  to  urge  in  my  defence, ' '  implored  Sir  Thomas,  humbly. 

But  Elizabeth  did  not  even  bestow  a  look  upon  him. 
Turning  towards  Catherine,  she  said,  "  Your  Majesty  is  right 
in  your  judgment  of  this  man.  He  is  subtle  and  perfidious  as 
the  serpent,  but  he  is  baser  than  that  reptile.  He  has 
deceived  us  both.  Let  us  make  common  cause  against  him, 
and  crush  him !" 

*' You  are  vindictive,  fair  princess,'*  cried  Seymour,  **but 
I  would  counsel  both  you  and  her  Majesty  to  think  twice  ere 
you  make  any  such  attempt. '  * 

''Ah!  now  we  see  him  in  his  true  character,"  exclaimed 
Elizabeth.      '*  The  serpent  hath  found  its  sting." 

''Enough!  we  have  unmasked  him,"  rejoined  Catherine. 
"It  shall  be  my  business  to  forget  him,"  she  added,  with 
a  sigh. 

"Her  Majesty  relents,"  muttered  Seymour,  watching  her 
narrowly.  "All  is  not  yet  lost  in  that  quarter.  Were 
she  alone,  I  should  not  despair  of  retrieving  my  position 
at  once." 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  this  chance  would  be  given 
him.  Calling  to  her  governess,  who  had  listened  to  the 
scene  in  affright,  not  knowing  how  it  might  terminate,  Eliza- 
beth prepared  to  depart,  and  looked  at  the  queen -dowager,  as 
if  expecting  she  would  accompany  her.  Catherine,  how- 
ever, remained  irresolute,  and  Seymour  made  sure  of  recover- 
ing the  ground  he  had  lost. 

At  this  juncture  a  page  entered  the  room,  and  announced 
"The  king!" 

On  this,  the  princess  and  her  governess  stood  still. 

"  What  brings  the  king  here?  "  said  Catherine.  "  Ah  !  I 
understand.  Is  his  Grace  unattended?"  she  added  to  the 
page. 

"The  Countess  of  Hertford  is  with  him,  an  please  your 
Majesty, ' '  replied  the  page. 


Chap.  XIII]  LADY  HERTFORD  BALKED  189 

**  *Tis  as  I  suspected,"  thought  Catherine ;  and,  advancing 
towards  the  princess,  she  whispered,  **  Be  cautious  Mischief 
enough  has  been  done  already  by  the  countess.  She  must  not 
triumph  over  us. '  * 

''Fear  me  not,"  rejoined  Elizabeth,  in  the  same  tone. 
**  No  words  of  mine  shall  betray  your  Majesty." 

While  this  was  passing,  a  second  page  entered,  and  called 
out  as  the  first  had  done,  ''The  king!"  Then  followed  a 
gentleman  usher,  bearing  a  wand,  who  made  a  similar  an- 
nouncement. After  which,  the  tapestry  covering  the  door- 
way was  drawn  aside,  and  Edward,  accompanied  by  the 
Countess  of  Hertford,  stepped  into  the  room.  Behind  the 
young  monarch  came  Fowler  and  Xit. 

On  entering  the  chamber  Lady  Hertford's  first  glance  was 
directed  towards  Catherine,  and  she  was  surprised  and  morti- 
fied to  see  her  exhibit  so  much  calmness  of  manner  and  look. 
By  a  great  effort  the  queen  had  succeeded  in  recovering  her 
composure.  Neither  did  Elizabeth  betray  any  symptoms  of 
agitation.  As  to  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  he  appeared  so  per- 
fectly easy  and  unconcerned,  that  no  one  could  imagine  he 
had  been  the  principal  actor  in  such  a  scene  as  had  just  oc- 
curred. The  only  person  who  could  not  entirely  shake  off  her 
perturbation  was  Mistress  Ashley.  But  of  her.  Lady  Hertford 
took  little  heed. 

Having  received  the  obeisances  of  all  the  party  whom  he 
found  in  the  room,  Edward  turned  to  Lady  Hertford,  and 
said,  "When  you  begged  me  to  come  hither,  good  aunt,  you 
promised  me  an  agreeable  surprise,  and  some  diversion.  In 
what  does  the  surprise  consist  ? ' ' 

' '  My  good  sister  would  appear  to  be  surprised  herself,  to 
judge  from  her  looks,"  observed  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
"  though,  it  may  be,  not  so  agreeably  as  she  expected.  In  any 
case,  I  am  indebted  to  her  for  bringing  your  Majesty  here, 
though  I  fear  it  will  be  trouble  taken  for  little  gain." 

"  Perhaps  my  presence  was  the  agreeable  surprise  intended 


190  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  I 

for  your  Majesty,"  observed  the  queen -dowager.  **  If  so, 
I  shall  feel  highly  flattered. ' ' 

'*0r  mine,"  added  Elizabeth,  **  though  Lady  Hertford 
could  scarce  know  I  was  here. ' ' 

'*  There  your  Highness  is  mistaken,"  rejoined  the  countess. 
*'  I  was  fully  aware  you  were  here.  Perhaps  Sir  Thomas  will 
account  for  being  here  likewise  ? ' ' 

"  Nothing  more  easy,  good  sister,"  replied  Seymour.  **  I 
came  hither  to  see  my  sister  Herbert,  and  learning  she  had 
gone  to  another  part  of  the  palace,  I  should  have  departed 
instantly,  had  I  not  found  the  Lady  Elizabeth's  Grace  and 
Mistress  Ashley  in  possession  of  the  room,  and  I  remained  in 
converse  with  them  for  a  few  minutes,  when  her  majesty  the 
queen-dowager  arrived,  and  detained  me  until  now." 

'*A  likely  story  !"  exclaimed  Lady  Hertford.  **  I  can  give 
another  version  of  it. " 

'*  Indeed  !  then  pray  do  so,  good  aunt !"  cried  Edward. 

But  the  countess's  reply  was  checked  by  a  very  menacing 
glance  fixed  upon  her  by  Seymour. 

*  *  I  have  bethought  me,  and  must  decline  to  say  more  on 
the  subject,"  replied  Lady  Hertford. 

*'  Nay,  good  aunt,  that  will  not  satisfy  us,"  cried  Edward. 
*' You  impugn  Sir  Thomas's  veracity,  and  yet  are  unable,  or 
unwilling,  to  prove  him  wrong." 

*'  Press  not  my  sister  further,  sire,"  said  Seymour.  '*  See 
you  not  she  meditated  some  jest  at  my  expense,  which  the 
plain  statement  I  have  given  has  robbed  of  its  point  ? ' '  And 
he  again  looked  sternly  at  Lady  Hertford. 

*  'Ah !  is  it  so,  dear  aunt  ? ' '  said  Edward,  laughing. 
**  Confess  you  have  failed." 

"That  cannot  be  denied,  sire,"  replied  the  countess. 

*' Ill-success  should  ever  attend  the  mischief-maker,"  said 
Catherine. 

* '  Nay,  your  Majesty  is  too  severe, ' '  rejoined  Edward.  '  *  Our 
good  aunt  had  no  mischievous  design  in  what  she  proposed. '  * 


Chap.  XIII']  LADY  HERTFORD  BALKED  191 

*'  So  your  Grace  thinks,  and  it  is  well  you  should  continue 
to  think  so,"  returned  the  queen. 

Any  rejoinder  by  the  countess  to  the  queen -dowager's  im- 
prudent sarcasm  was  prevented  by  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  who 
kept  his  eye  steadily  fixed  on  his  sister-in-law. 

At  this  juncture  Xit  stepped  forward,  and,  with  an  obei- 
sance, said,  **  Your  Majesty  came  here  to  be  surprised  and 
diverted.  'Twere  a  pity  you  should  be  disappointed.  Your 
amiable  nature  also  delights  in  reconciling  differences  where 
any  unfortunately  exist.  Will  it  please  you  to  lay  your  com- 
mands upon  the  Countess  of  Hertford  to  give  her  hand  to  her 
grace  the  queen-dowager  ?  ' ' 

'*Sire!"  exclaimed  the  countess,  **you  will  not  suffer 
this?" 

**  Nay,  let  it  be  so,  good  aunt,"  interrupted  the  king.  **  The 
knave  has  some  merry  design  which  we  would  not  spoil  by  a 
refusal." 

Thus  enjoined,  Lady  Hertford  very  reluctantly  advanced 
towards  the  queen.  But  Catherine  drew  herself  up  proudly 
and  coldly,  and  repelled  her  by  a  look. 

**  So  ! — so  !"  cried  Xit,  with  a  comical  look  at  the  king. 
*'Peradventure,  we  shall  succeed  better  in  the  next  attempt. 
Will  your  Majesty  enjoin  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  to  take  the 
hand  of  the  Lady  Elizabeth's  Grace  ? ' ' 

'*  To  what  purpose  ?  "  demanded  Edward. 

*' You  will  see,  sire,"  replied  the  dwarf 

'^  Dar'st  thou  jest  with  me,  thou  saucy  knave  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  princess,  giving  him  a  sound  box  on  the  ears. 

*'  Pity  so  soft  a  hand  should  strike  so  shrewdly,"  observed 
Xit,  rubbing  his  cheek.  ''But  I  have  not  yet  done,  sire. 
For  the  last  essay,  I  pray  that  Sir  Thomas  may  be  directed  to 
give  his  hand  to  her  Majesty  the  queen-dowager." 

**The  command  will  be  unavailing,"  cried  Catherine. 
* '  I  will  not  suffer  him  to  approach  me. ' ' 

' '  The  secret  is  out, ' '  exclaimed  Xit,  triumphantly.    "  There 


192  THE  COmT/tBLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

has  been  a  quarrel.  This,  then,  was  the  pleasant  surprise 
designed  for  your  Majesty." 

**  On  my  faith,  I  believe  the  cunning  varlet  is  right,"  said 
Edward. 

**Thou  givest  thyself  strange  license,  sirrah,"  said  Sey- 
mour to  the  dwarf;  *'but  if  thou  takest  any  more  such 
liberties  with  me,  thine  ears  shall  pay  for  thine  imperti- 
nence." 

'*One  of  them  has  paid  for  it  already,"  rejoined  Xit, 
taking  refuge  behind  the  youthful  monarch.  **  Mine  ears  are 
the  king's,  and  if  your  lordship. deprives  me  of  them  you  will 
do  his  majesty  a  wrong.  Saving  your  presence,  sire,  you 
have  been  brought  here  on  a  fool's  errand,  and  it  is  for 
your  faithful  dwarf  to  bring  you  off  with  credit — as  he  hath 
done." 

** Wisdom  sometimes  proceeds  from  the  lips  of  fools," 
observed  Edward  ;  *  *  and  we  have  learnt  more  from  thy  folly 
than  we  might  have  done  from  our  discernment.  That  some 
misunderstanding  exists  is  evident — whence  originating  we 
care  not  to  inquire — but  it  must  be  set  to  rights.  Come, 
good  aunt,"  to  Lady  Hertford,  '*you  shall  go  back  with 
us.  As  to  you,  gentle  uncle,"  he  added,  with  a  gracious 
smile,  to  Sir  Thomas,  **  since  neither  the  queen  our  mother, 
nor  the  princess  our  sister,  seems  to  desire  your  company,  we 
will  relieve  them  of  it,  and  will  pray  you  to  attend  us  in 
an  inspection  of  our  armory. '  * 

Saluting  the  queen-dowager  and  Elizabeth,  he  quitted  the 
chamber  with  Lady  Hertford  and  Sir  Thomas  ;  the  pages  and 
henchmen,  with  Xit  and  Fowler,  following  him. 

Sir  Thomas  Seymour  remained  for  some  time  in  attendance 
upon  his  royal  nephew,  and  though  by  no  means  in  a  lively 
mood,  he  contrived  to  disguise  his  feelings  so  effectually,  and 
conversed  with  such  apparent  gaiety  and  animation,  that 
it  was  quite  impossible  to  suspect  he  had  any  secret  cause 
of  uneasiness. 


Chap.  Xlll^  LADY  HERTFORD  BALKED  193 

Accompanied  by  his  uncle,  the  young  king  visited  the 
Tower  armory  and  examined  the  formidable  store  of  military 
engines  at  that  time  collected  within  it — ^bombards,  culverins, 
sakers,  and  falconets,  with  portable  fire-arms,  as  harquebuses, 
demi-haques,  and  dags.  Edward  next  turned  his  attention  to 
the  armor,  noting  the  breastplates  of  the  globose  form  then  in 
use,  with  the  cuisses,  casques,  and  gauntlets.  Swords  of 
all  shapes  and  sizes,  from  the  huge  two-handed  blade  to 
the  beautiful  damascened  rapier,  next  underwent  a  careful 
inspection,  with  other  offensive  weapons  then  in  use,  as  lances, 
battle-axes,  partisans,  and  martels.  While  pointing  out  such 
of  these  implements  as  were  most  worthy  of  the  young  king's 
notice,  Seymour  endeavored  to  profit  by  the  occasion  to 
inflame  his  breast  with  a  love  of  military  renown,  and  to 
a  certain  extent  succeeded.  Edward's  cheek  glowed  and  his 
eye  flashed  as  he  listened  to  his  uncle's  soldier -like  details  of 
certain  incidents  in  the  late  war  with  France. 

*'  In  time,  I  doubt  not  your  Majesty  will  lead  your  armies 
in  person,"  observed  Seymour,  in  conclusion,  "and  then 
our  foes  may  find  that  England  possesses  another  Edward, 
valiant  as  the  third  of  that  name,  or  as  the  Black  Prince,  his 
warrior  son." 

''Hereafter  it  may  be  so,"  returned  the  king,  with  a 
gracious  smile.  "  But,  meanwhile,  we  must  intrust  the  com- 
mand of  our  armies  to  those  better  able  to  lead  them  than 
ourself. ' ' 

*'Ah  !  here  is  a  weapon  that  merits  your  Majesty's  atten- 
tion," exclaimed  Seymour,  taking  down  a  large  two-handed 
sword.  ''With  this  very  blade  your  august  sire  often  fought 
at  the  barriers  with  the  Duke  of  Sufl'olk,  who  alone  was  his 
match.     Your  Highness  will  scarce  wield  it. '  * 

* '  Let  me  try, ' '  cried  Edward,  taking  the  mighty  weapon, 
and  vainly  endeavoring  to  make  a  sweep  with  it.      * '  Nay,  in 
good  sooth  it  is  above  my  strength, ' '  he  added,  resigning  the 
weapon  to  his  uncle. 
13 


194  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

*  *  I  will  teach  your  Majesty  so  to  handle  it  that  it  shall  de- 
fend you  against  ten  ordinary  blades,"  cried  Sir  Thomas. 
*'As  thus;  "  and  stepping  backwards  to  a  sufficient  distance, 
he  whirled  round  the  immense  blade  with  extraordinary  quick- 
ness— delivering  a  thrust  with  it  and  instantly  afterwards  a 
downright  blow.  *'An  enemy  would  have  fallen  for  each  of 
those  blows,"  he  continued,  laughing.  *'But  the  sword  may 
be  held  with  the  left  hand,  and  a  thrust  delivered  in  this 
manner,"  accompanying  the  words  with  a  suitable  action. 
' '  But  there  is  danger  that  your  adversary  may  seize  the  blade, 
and  pluck  it  from  you. ' ' 

**  So  I  should  judge,"  replied  Edward.  *'  Dost  think  thou 
couldst  lift  that  sword  ?  "  he  added  to  Xit,  who  was  regarding 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour's  performance  with  admiration. 

"  I  nothing  doubt  my  ability  to  wield  it,  sire  j  ay,  and  to 
deliver  a  thrust  with  it  for  the  matter  of  that, ' '  replied  the 
dwarf,  confidently.  *'l  have  borne  Og's  partisan,  which  is 
a  larger  weapon.  * ' 

'*  Give  it  him,  gentle  uncle,"  said  the  king. 

'*  'Tis  not  a  toy  for  his  hands,"  cried  Sir  Thomas,  flinging 
down  the  mighty  sword  with  a  clatter  that  made  Xit  skip 
backwards  in  affright.  But  he  presently  returned,  and  grasp- 
ing the  pommel  with  both  hands,  strove,  but  ineffectually,  to 
describe  a  circle  with  the  weapon.  After  repeated  efforts, 
which  put  his  own  head  in  some  danger,  and  caused  the  king 
much  merriment,  Xit  was  obliged  to  desist,  and  confess  that 
the  sword  was  too  heavy  for  him. 

Sir  Thomas  next  explained  to  the  king  the  various  wards, 
thrusts,  and  blows  that  could  be  practised  with  bill,  partisan, 
and  halberd,  illustrating  his  remarks  with  the  weapons  in 
question,  which  he  handled  with  the  greatest  dexterity.  The 
lesson  over,  Edward  returned  to  the  palace,  and  sending  for 
Sir  John  Cheke  and  Doctor  Cox,  applied  himself  diligently 
to  his  studies,  while  Seymour,  glad  to  be  released^  proceeded 
to  the  Wardrobe  Tower. 


Chap.XIk'}  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDANT  195 


CHAPTER  XIV 


SHOWING  HOW  UGO  HARRINGTON  WAS  ADMITTED  INTO 
SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDENCE 

On  entering  his  own  chamber,  Sir  Thomas  at  once  threw 
off  the  mask,  and  his  esquire,  perceiving  from  the  expression 
of  his  countenance  that  something  had  gone  wrong,  forbore 
to  address  him,  but  watched  him  with  a  strange  sort  of 
smile  as  he  fiung  himself  angrily  on  a  couch.  After  awhile, 
Seymour  broke  the  silence. 

'  *  Thou  canst  partly  guess  what  has  happened,  Ugo, '  *  he 
said.  "  But  it  is  worse  than  even  thy  imagination  can  con- 
ceive.    I  have  lost  them  both. ' ' 

* '  Diavolo  !  both  !     In  what  way,  monsignore  ? ' ' 

**  The  last  person  on  earth  I  should  have  desired  or  looked 
for  was  a  secret  witness  of  my  interview  with  the  princess ; 
and  at  the  very  moment  I  made  sure  of  the  prize,  it  was 
snatched  from  my  grasp.  When  I  tell  thee  that  Queen  Cath- 
erine stepped  from  behind  the  arras,  where  she  had  lain  per- 
due, listening  to  all  my  love  speeches  to  the  princess,  and 
registering  all  my  vows,  thou  wilt  conceive  the  scene  that  fol- 
lowed. Her  majesty  looked  as  if  she  could  have  poniarded 
me,  as  thy  amiable  Florentines  sometimes  do  their  faithless 
lovers.  But  this  was  nothing  to  the  reproaches  I  had  to 
endure  on  both  sides.  They  are  ringing  in  my  ears  even 
now. ' ' 

''The  situation  must  have  been  the  reverse  of  pleasant. 
And  you  failed  in  reconciling  yourself  with  either  of  the  fair 
ones,  eh,  monsignore?" 

"  Failed  utterly,  Ugo.  The  princess  is  certainly  lost ;  and 
I  fear  the  queen  also. ' ' 


196  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

'*  Per  dio  !  that  is  unlucky.  You  will  remember  I  had  mis- 
givings when  your  lordship  embarked  on  this  adventure. '  * 

''Would  I  had  followed  thy  counsel,  Ugo,  and  remained 
constant  to  Catherine.  But  I  was  enslaved  by  the  charms  of 
the  bewitching  Elizabeth,  whom  even  now  that  she  scorns  me 
I  adore." 

"  You  say  she  is  lost  ? ' ' 

*'Alas  !  yes,  Ugo — irrecoverably  lost." 

*'  In  that  case,  think  of  her  no  more,  but  turn  your 
thoughts  wholly  on  the  queen — that  is,  if  you  have  any  hope 
of  retrieving  your  position  with  her  majesty." 

*'  I  do  not  entirely  despair  of  a  reconciliation,  Ugo.  But 
it  will  be  difficult  to  effect." 

**  Via,  via,  monsignore.  Every  great  object  is  difficult  of 
attainment.  You  have  often  told  me  your  ruling  passion  is 
ambition.     But  you  appear  to  have  misjudged  yourself. ' ' 

"  I  told  thee  the  truth,"  cried  Seymour,  springing  from  the 
couch.  * 'Ambition  is  my  ruling  passion,  and  all  others  must 
bow  to  it.  Henceforth,  I  shall  think  only  of  my  advance- 
ment. Hark  thee,  Ugo,  thou  knowest  something  of  my  pro- 
jects, but  thou  shalt  know  more,  for  I  can  trust  thee. '  *  The 
esquire  bowed  and  smiled.  "  I  owe  the  lord  protector  little 
brotherly  love,  for  he  has  ever  shown  himself  my  enemy.  For 
years  he  has  striven  to  keep  me  down,  but  unsuccessfully,  for 
I  have  risen  in  spite  of  him.  Had  my  sister.  Queen  Jane, 
lived,  I  should  have  mounted  rapidly,  for  she  preferred  me  to 
her  elder  brother;  but  when  I  lost  her,  I  lost  much  of 
Henry's  favor.  And  why? — because  my  brother  Edward 
feared  I  should  supplant  him.  Thus,  when  Henry  would  have 
ennobled  me  and  enriched  me,  as  he  had  ennobled  and  en- 
riched Edward,  I  was  passed  by  as  of  no  account.  Can  I  forget 
such  treatment  ?     Never  ! ' ' 

"  I  marvel  not  at  your  resentment,  monsignore." 

"  Neither  wilt  thou  marvel  at  the  reprisals  I  mean  to  take 
for  the  wrong  I  have  endured.     Hertford's  jealousy  pursued 


Chap.  Xiyl  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDANT  197 

me  to  the  last  with  the  king.  He  could  not  prevent  certain 
marks  of  favor  being  bestowed  upon  me,  nor  altogether  check 
the  liking  Henry  had  for  me,  and  which  manifested  itself  in 
various  ways,  but  he  so  misrepresented  me,  that  I  never  ob- 
tained the  king's  confidence — neither  would  his  majesty  con- 
fer any  important  trust  upon  me.  Many  posts  for  which  I 
was  specially  fitted  became  vacant  while  Hertford  was  at  the 
head  of  affairs,  but  his  malignant  influence  was  ever  at  work 
with  the  king,  and  I  was  overlooked.  By  my  brother's  arts, 
and  his  alone,  I  was  excluded  from  the  list  of  Henry's  execu- 
tors, and  degraded  to  the  lower  council,  though  my  rightful 
place  was  with  the  upper.  But  this  last  injustice  would  have 
been  redressed  had  Henry  lived  a  short  space  longer.  Sir 
John  Gage  and  myself  were  kept  from  the  dying  king's  pres- 
ence till  he  could  no  longer  cause  his  behests  to  be  obeyed. 
Something  strange  there  was  in  the  signing  of  the  will,  Ugo, 
that  inclines  me  to  suspect  all  was  not  right ;  and  Sir  John  is 
of  my  opinion,  though  he  keeps  a  close  tongue  about  the  mat- 
ter. In  my  belief  the  king  was  dead,  or  dying,  when  the  will 
was  stamped — for  stamped  it  was,  not  signed. ' ' 

'*If  such  were  the  case,  monsignore,  the  perpetrators  of 
the  fraud  shall  scarce  escape  the  punishment  due  to  their 
offence. ' ' 

*  *  Neither  in  this  world  nor  the  next  shall  they  escape  it, ' ' 
rejoined  Seymour,  sternly.  **  What  Henry's  intentions  were 
I  know  from  Sir  John  Gage — how  they  were  frustrated  is  best 
known  to  my  brother.  But  not  only  has  Hertford  made  me 
no  reparation  for  the  great  wrong  done  me  by  him,  but  his 
jealousy  has  latterly  increased  to  positive  hate.  My  influence, 
he  feels,  is  greater  with  our  royal  nephew  than  his  own. 
Therefore  he  fears  me,  and  would  remove  me  altogether  if  he 
could.  Luckily,  that  is  not  in  his  power.  I  am  too  strong 
for  him  now,"  he  added,  with  a  bitter  smile,  *'and  he  will 
find  it  difficult  to  crush  me,  or  even  keep  me  down  much 
longer.     He  thinks  to  appease  me  by  making  me  Baron  Sey- 


198  THE  CONST/iBLE  OF  THE   TOPVER  [Book  I 

mour  of  Sudley,  and  High  Admiral  of  England.  That  is 
something,  and  I  shall  refuse  neither  the  title  nor  the  post. 
But  they  will  not  content  me.  Hertford  would  have  all 
power  and  greatness  concenter  in  himself,  and  leave  little  save 
the  skirts  to  me.  He  hath  made  himself  lord  protector  and 
governor  of  the  king's  person — the  latter  office  should  be 
mine — would  be  mine  now,  if  the  king  had  his  way — shall  be 
mine  hereafter  !  * ' 

' '  May  your  expectations  be  fulfilled,  monsignore ! '  *  ex- 
claimed Ugo. 

**Thou  wilt  see,"  rejoined  Seymour,  with  a  significant 
smile.  **But  to  make  an  end  of  my  grievances.  Not  only 
has  Hertford  taken  the  two  most  important  offices  in  the 
state  to  himself,  but  he  means  to  add  to  them  the  dignities  of 
lord  high  treasurer  and  earl  marshal,  forfeited  by  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk's  attainder,  with  the  style  and  title  of  Duke  of 
Somerset." 

'*  His  highness  takes  good  care  of  himself,  it  must  be 
owned, ' '  observed  Ugo. 

*'Let  him  look  well  to  his  seat  if  he  would  keep  it," 
rejoined  Seymour,  *'  for  by  my  father's  head,  I  will  not  rest  till 
I  supplant  him  and  instal  myself  in  his  place.  What  he  fears 
will  come  to  pass.  By  surrendering  to  me  half  the  spoil, 
he  might  have  kept  me  quiet,  but  now  I  will  be  satisfied  only 
with  the  whole.  I  will  be  duke,  protector,  governor,  lord 
high  treasurer,  earl  marshal — all.  And  he  shall  be — less  than 
I  am  now.'* 

*'His  highness  will  richly  have  deserved  his  fate  should 
it  so  befall  him." 

*'The  condition  of  parties  is  favorable  to  my  project," 
pursued  Seymour.  * '  Beneath  the  crust  of  the  volcano  lurks  a 
fire  ready  to  burst  forth  on  the  slightest  disturbance  of  the 
surface.  The  ancient  nobility  hate  my  brother,  and  un- 
willingly submit  to  him ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
friendly  to  me.     With  the  Romanists  I  stand  far  better  than 


Chap.  XI y}  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDANT  199 

he  does,  because,  though  I  profess  the  New  Faith,  I  am 
tolerant  of  the  Old,  and  care  not  to  pursue  the  Reformation 
further.  My  plan  will  be  that  of  the  late  king,  who  showed 
his  sagacity  in  the  course  he  pursued,  namely,  to  make  one  sect 
balance  the  other,  and  give  neither  the  preponderance.  By 
allying  himself  so  closely  with  the  Reformers,  Hertford  will 
incur  the  bitter  hostility  of  the  Papists,  and  on  this  I  count. 
My  faction  will  soon  be  stronger  than  his.  And  he  must 
walk  warily  if  I  cannot  catch  him  tripping.  Then  let  him 
look  to  himself. ' ' 

*' Your  lordship's  influence  with  the  king  is  the  best  guar 
antee  for  the  success  of  your  project,"  remarked  Ugo.  *'  If 
the  council  could  likewise  be  won,  the  rest  were  easy. ' ' 

**  I  have  already  sounded  several  of  them,  but  I  must  pro- 
ceed cautiously,  lest  I  awaken  my  brother's  suspicions.  The 
lord  chancellor  is  discontented ;  and  the  Earl  of  Arundel, 
Lord  St.  John,  the  Bishop  of  Durham,  and  Sir  Anthony 
Brown,  are  sure  to  become  alienated  when  further  attempts 
are  made  by  Cranmer  to  deepen  the  quarrel  with  the  See 
of  Rome.  Disunion  must  ensue,  and  at  that  critical  juncture 
I  shall  step  in  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  party,  and  grasp  the 
reins  of  government.  In  anticipation  of  such  an  event, 
it  shall  be  my  business  to  secure  the  king's  person.  I  do  not 
desire  to  stir  up  rebellion,  but  rather  than  miss  my  mark 
I  will  do  so  ;  and  if  a  revolt  occurs,  it  shall  not  want  a 
leader. ' ' 

''Your  lordship  is  a  conspirator  on  a  grand  scale — a 
second  Catiline!"  observed  Ugo,  smiling  in  his  singular 
way. 

''This  is  a  time  when  plots  must  needs  be  rife,  for  all 
is  disjointed  and  unsettled,"  observed  Seymour.  "A  king 
on  the  throne  who  is  king  only  by  name — ministers  who 
would  usurp  supreme  authority — conflicting  parties  both  in 
Church  and  State — an  old  nobility  detesting  those  recently 
created — a   new  nobility   rapacious   and   insatiable  ~a    dis- 


200  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  I 

contented,  oppressed,  and  overtaxed  people, — out  of  these 
troubled  elements,  plots  and  conspiracies  must  arise — and 
some  besides  my  own  I  can  already  see  are  hatching. ' ' 

*'  Da  vero,  monsignore?  "  exclaimed  Ugo,  with  an  inquir- 
ing look. 

*'Ay,  indeed,"  rejoined  Seymour.  **  My  brother  is  not 
firm  enough  to  hold  his  place  against  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  certain  to  beset  him,  even  if  he  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  me,"  observed  Seymour.  *'Lord  Lisle  feigns  to 
be  his  friend,  but  I  suspect  he  nourishes  secret  designs  against 
him." 

'*  Methought  Lord  Lisle  was  a  partisan  of  your  lordship," 
remarked  Ugo,  with  a  certain  disquietude. 

**  I  will  not  trust  him  further  till  I  feel  more  sure  of  him. 
What  is  thy  opinion  of  Lisle,  Ugo?  Speak  out.  Thou 
know' St  him." 

*'Not  enough  to  judge  him  correctly,  monsignore,"  re- 
plied the  esquire.  **  But  I  am  sure  he  could  help  you  greatly 
if  he  would. ' ' 

**Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Seymour.  **  Lisle  is  pre- 
cisely the  man  for  my  purpose ;  he  is  daring,  ambitious,  and 
troubled  with  few  scruples.  See  what  thou  canst  do  with  him, 
Ugo,  but  do  not  commit  me." 

''Rest  easy,  monsignore." 

"Be  liberal  in  thy  offers;  hold  out  any  temptation  thou 
pleasest. ' ' 

"All  shall  be  done  as  you  desire.  But  hark  !  there  is  some 
one  in  the  waiting-chamber." 

" 'Tis  Dorset!  I  know  his  voice,"  cried  Seymour. 
"What  brings  him  here?  Pray  Heaven  he  has  not  heard 
of  my  quarrel  with  the  queen  !" 

"  That  is  not  likely,"  replied  the  esquire.  "  Her  majesty 
will  keep  her  own  counsel.  But  here  comes  his  lordship. 
Shall  I  retire,  monsignore  ?  * ' 

"Ay,  but  remain  within  call." 


Chap.  A-ZK]  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDANT  201 

As  Ugo  withdrew,  the  marquis  was  ushered  in  by  a  page, 
and  very  heartily  welcomed  by  Sir  Thomas. 

' '  I  have  come  to  inquire  after  your  health,  good  Sir 
Thomas,"  observed  Dorset.  **Methinks  you  look  wondrous 
well." 

* '  Never  better,  my  dear  marquis — never  better.  How  fares 
my  lady  marchioness,  and  your  daughter,  the  fair  Lady 
Jane  ?     Have  you  reflected  on  my  proposition  ? ' ' 

"Ahem! — yes,"  hesitated  the  other.  "I  almost  fear  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  decline  it. ' ' 

**  He  has  heard  of  the  quarrel,"  thought  Seymour.  "  Your 
lordship  is  the  best  judge  of  your  own  affairs,"  he  said,  in  an 
indifferent  tone.  *'  Without  me  the  union  we  spoke  of  will 
not  take  place.  You  are  aware,  I  suppose,  that  the  lord  pro- 
tector intends  to  affiance  the  king  to  the  infant  Queen  of 
Scots,  who  promises  to  be  of  extraordinary  beauty.  * ' 

**Ay,  but  the  Scots  refuse  the  treaty  of  marriage  proposed 
by  the  late  king  for  their  infant  queen,"  replied  Dorset.  **  If 
Henry  the  Eighth  failed,  the  lord  protector  is  not  likely  to 
prove  successful. ' ' 

**The  acceptance  of  the  treaty  may  be  enforced  by  the 
sword — a  mode  of  settlement  which  the  lord  protector  will 
assuredly  try,  if  he  be  not  prevented. ' ' 

**But  other  powers  will  not  permit  the  alliance.  King 
Francis  is  opposed  to  it.  * ' 

*'  His  Most  Christian  Majesty  will  not  long  outlast  his  royal 
brother,  Henry,  if  what  I  hear  of  him  from  his  ambassador 
be  true.  The  opposition  of  France  will  be  useless.  Rather 
than  suffer  the  horrors  of  war,  the  Scots  will  consent  to  the 
treaty.  My  royal  nephew's  affiancement  with  the  youthful 
Queen  Mary,  I  repeat,  will  take  place,  if  it  be  not  pre- 
vented." 

"  But  who  shall  prevent  it  ?  "  cried  the  marquis. 

Seymour  smiled,  as  who  should  say,  **  I  can  prevent  it,  if 
I  choose. ' '     But  he  did  not  give  utterance  to  the  words. 


202  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Booh  I 

**  I  fear  you  somewhat  overrate  your  power,  Sir  Thomas.'* 

**  Not  a  whit,  my  dear  marquis.  I  promise  nothing  that  I 
will  not  perform. ' '  Approaching  close  to  Dorset,  he  said  in 
his  ear,  '*  I  undertake  to  marry  your  daughter,  the  Lady  Jane, 
to  my  royal  nephew.  But  she  must  be  committed  to  my 
charge." 

**  But  you  must  be  wedded  before  you  can  take  charge  of 
her — well  wedded,  Sir  Thomas.  An  exalted  personage  like 
her  majesty,  the  queen -dowager,  for  instance,  would  be  pre- 
cisely the  guardian  I  should  desire  for  my  daughter. ' ' 

'*  I  was  certain  he  had  heard  of  the  quarrel,"  thought  Sey- 
mour. ''Well,  marquis,"  he  said,  ** suppose  the  Lady  Jane 
Grey  should  be  intrusted  to  her  majesty?  " 

''Ah !  then,  indeed — but  no  !  that  cannot  be." 

"Why  not?  I  see  what  has  happened.  My  mischief- 
making  sister-in-law,  Lady  Hertford,  has  informed  the  mar- 
chioness, that  there  has  been  a  trifling  misunderstanding  be- 
tween the  queen  and  myself. ' ' 

"  Not  a  trifling  misunderstanding,  as  I  hear — for  I  will  con- 
fess that  a  hint  of  the  matter  has  been  given  me — but  a  violent 
quarrel,  caused  by  her  highness' s  jealousy  of  the  princess. 
Ah !  Sir  Thomas — what  it  is  to  be  the  handsomest  man  at 
court !  But  you  have  thrown  away  a  great  chance  of  ag- 
grandizement. '  * 

"  Nonsense  !  I  have  thrown  away  no  chance,  as  you  will 
find,  my  dear  marquis.  My  amiable  sister-in-law  has  made  the 
most  of  the  quarrel,  which  was  of  her  own  contrivance,  and 
designed  not  to  annoy  me,  but  the  queen,  whose  affronts  to  her 
at  the  banquet  Lady  Hertford  seeks  to  avenge.  The  disagree- 
ment between  myself  and  her  majesty  is  of  no  moment — a 
mere  lover's  quarrel — and  will  be  speedily  set  right." 

"  Right  glad  am  I  to  hear  you  say  so.  Sir  Thomas — right 
glad  for  your  own  sake. ' ' 

"And  for  yours  as  well,  my  dear  marquis.  If  I  marry  not 
the  queen,  your  daughter  marries  not  the  king. ' ' 


Chap.  Xiy'\  SEYMOUR'S  CONFIDAl^T  203 

*'  That  is  coming  to  the  point,  Sir  Thomas." 

**  I  never  go  roundabout  when  a  straight  course  will  serve 
my  turn.  And  now,  marquis,  am  I  to  have  the  disposal  of 
the  Lady  Jane's  hand?  " 

*'Ah,  marry.  Sir  Thomas,  and  I  shall  be  greatly  beholden 
to  you." 

' '  Is  there  aught  more  I  can  do  to  content  your  lordship  ? ' ' 

''  I  do  not  like  to  trouble  you  too  much,  Sir  Thomas,  but 
I  happen  at  this  moment  to  have  occasion  for  a  few  hundred 
pounds — say  five  hundred — and  if  you  can,  without  inconve- 
nience, lend  me  the  amount,  I  shall  be  infinitely  indebted  to 
you.     Any  security  you  may  require '  * 

**  No  security  is  needed,  marquis.  Your  word  will  suffice.  I 
am  enchanted  to  be  able  to  oblige  you — not  now,  but  at  all 
times.  What  ho,  Ugo  ! "  he  cried ;  adding,  as  the  esquire, 
who  was  within  earshot,  promptly  answered  the  summons, 
'  *  Here  is  the  key  of  my  coffer.  Count  out  five  hundred  pounds 
in  gold,  and  let  that  sum  be  conveyed  to  the  Marquis  of 
Dorset's  apartments." 

Ugo  took  the  small  gold  key  from  his  patron,  bowed,  and 
retired. 

*'  If  I  had  asked  him  for  double  the  amount  he  would  have 
given  it,"  muttered  Dorset.  **But  I  will  have  the  rest  at 
some  other  time. "  '^  You  are  very  confident  in  your  esquire's 
honesty.  Sir  Thomas  ?  "  he  added,  aloud. 

**With  good  reason,  my  lord.     I  have  proved  it." 

At  this  moment  a  page  entered,  and  announced:  '*The 
king!"  Immediately  afterwards  Edward  was  ceremoniously 
ushered  into  the  chamber  by  Fowler.  The  rest  of  the  young 
monarch's  attendants,  amongst  whom  was  Xit,  remained  in 
the  ante-chamber. 

**  Having  finished  my  studies,  gentle  uncle,"  he  cried,  '*  I 
am  come  to  have  an, hour's  recreation  with  you.  Shall  we 
walk  forth  upon  the  ramparts  ?  "  Sir  Thomas  bowed  assent. 
**  I  would  have  had  my  sister  Elizabeth's  company,  but  she  is 


204  THE  COr^STABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

out  of  sorts,  and  prayed  to  be  excused.  Ah  !  gentle  uncle, 
you  are  to  blame  there.  You  have  done  something  to  offend 
her.  But  I  must  have  you  friends  again.  I  cannot  let  two 
persons  I  love  so  much  remain  at  variance." 

'*  Nay,  your  Majesty,  there  is  no  difference  between  us." 

**I  am  sure  there  is,  and  between  the  queen,  our  mother, 
also — ^but  we  will  set  it  right.  You  also  shall  bear  us  company 
in  our  walk,  if  you  will,  my  Lord  of  Dorset.  How  doth  our 
fair  cousin,  the  Lady  Jane  ? '  * 

* '  My  daughter  is  well — quite  well,  my  gracious  liege, ' '  re- 
plied Dorset.  ^'Like  your  Majesty,  she  pursues  her  studies 
even  in  the  Tower.  I  left  her  but  now  reading  the  Phaedo 
of  Plato." 

'*  Then  we  will  not  disturb  her,  for  she  cannot  be  better 
employed.  Otherwise,  we  should  have  been  glad  to  converse 
with  her  during  our  walk. ' ' 

*'Nay,  I  am  sure  the  Lady  Jane  would  prefer  your  Maj- 
esty's society  to  that  of  the  greatest  heathen  philosopher — even 
than  that  of  the  divine  Plato, ' '  observed  Seymour. 

*'I  know  not  that,"  replied  Edward,  smiling.  *'Our 
cousin  Jane  loves  books  better  than  society.  Ere  long,  you 
will  have  good  reason  to  be  proud  of  your  daughter's  erudi- 
tion, my  Lord  Marquis." 

* '  I  will  say  for  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  what  her  father  could 
not  say  for  her,"  interposed  Seymour,  *'  that  she  is  pious  as 
wise,  and  gentle  as  pious.     Her  virtues  fit  her  for  a  throne. ' ' 

**  You  speak  enthusiastically,  gentle  uncle,"  said  Edward. 
"  Yet  you  go  not  beyond  the  truth.  Such  is  my  own  opinion 
of  my  cousin.  But  she  must  not  study  overmuch.  A  little  ex- 
ercise will  do  her  good.  How  say  you,  my  Lord  of  Dor- 
set?" 

"I  will  bring  her  to  your  Majesty  forthwith,"  replied  the 
marquis.      "  'Twill  delight  her  to  obey  you." 

**  You  will  find  us  on  the  northern  ramparts, ' '  said  Edward, 
as  Dorset,  with  a  profound  obeisance,  withdrew.     **  You  are 


Chap.  A-K]         XIT  ON  THE  IVOODEN  HORSE  205 

right,  gentle  uncle,"  he  observed,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 
'*My  cousin  Jane  would  adorn  a  throne.  I  would  I  might 
wed  such  another.  * ' 

**Why  not  wed  the  Lady  Jane  herself,  my  liege?"  de- 
manded Seymour. 

*^  My  uncle,  the  lord  protector,  designs  to  affiance  me 
to  the  infant  Queen  of  Scots. ' ' 

"  But  if  your  Majesty  prefers  the  Lady  Jane  ?  " 

*'  I  shall  have  no  choice,"  sighed  Edward. 

**  Consult  me  before  you  assent  to  any  betrothal,  sire." 

"I  will,"  replied  Edward,  with  a  smile,  as  he  went  forth 
with  his  uncle. 


CHAPTER  XV 


OF  XITS  PERILOUS  FLIGHT  ACROSS  THE  TOIVER  MOAT  ON 
PACOLETS  HORSE 

Accompanied  by  Seymour,  and  followed  by  Fowler  and 
Xit,  with  a  train  of  pages  and  henchmen,  Edward  ascended  to 
the  outer  ballium  wall  by  a  flight  of  stone  steps  opposite 
the  Broad  Arrow  Tower,  and  proceeded  slowly  towards  the 
large  circular  bastion,  known  as  the  Brass  Mount,  situated  on 
the  northeastern  extremity  of  the  ramparts.  Here  he  halted, 
and  tried  to  keep  up  a  conversation  with  his  uncle,  but  it  was 
evident,  from  his  heedless  manner,  that  his  thoughts  were 
absent.  At  length  Jane  appeared  upon  the  ramparts  with 
her  father,  and  uttering  an  exclamation  of  delight,  the  young 
king  hurried  off  to  meet  her.  When  within  a  few  paces 
of  his  fair  cousin,  however,  he  stopped,  as  if  struck  by  the 
indecorum  of  the  proceeding,  his  cheeks  all  aflame,  yet  not 
burning  a  whit  more  brightly  than  those  of  the  Lady  Jane, 
who  stopped  as  he  stopped^  and  made  him  a  lowly  obeisance. 


2o6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  I 

The  bashfulness  with  which  Edward  had  been  suddenly- 
afflicted  continued  until  the  arrival  of  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
whose  light  laughter  and  playful  remarks  soon  dissipated 
it,  and  he  became  voluble  enough.  By  his  desire  the  Lady 
Jane  walked  on  with  him,  and  he  at  once  engaged  her  in  dis- 
course, not  upon  light  and  trivial  themes,  but  on  grave 
subjects  such  as  he  had  discussed  with  her  in  the  privy-garden. 
It  was  good  to  see  them  thus  occupied,  but  it  would  have 
been  better  to  have  listened  to  their  talk.  Two  such  children 
have  rarely  come  together.  Two  beings  more  perfectly 
adapted  to  each  other  could  not  be  found,  and  yet — But 
we  will  not  peer  into  futurity.  The  Marquis  of  Dorset  and 
Sir  Thomas  Seymour  followed  at  a  respectful  distance,  both 
enchanted  at  what  was  taking  place.  The  latter  felt  con- 
fident of  the  realization  of  his  ambitious  designs ;  the  former 
regarded  his  daughter  as  already  queen. 

Nearly  an  hour  passed  in  this  way — the  progress  of  time 
being  unnoted  by  the  young  king  and  his  fair  companion 
— when  Edward,  who  had  been  hitherto  almost  unobservant 
of  aught  save  his  cousin,  remarked  that  something  unusual  was 
taking  place  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Tower  moat.  A 
large  circle  had  been  formed,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  mounte- 
bank was  performing  some  feats,  which  seemed,  from  the 
shouts  and  applause  they  elicited,  to  astonish  and  delight  the 
beholders.  What  the  feats  were  the  king  could  not  make  out. 
Soon  afterwards  the  crowd  began  to  disperse,  and  the  mounte- 
bank was  seen  carrying  off  a  wooden  horse,  with  which  no 
doubt  he  had  been  diverting  the  spectators. 

*'What  tricks  hath  the  fellow  been  playing  with  that 
wooden  horse  ?  ' '   inquired  the  king,  of  Seymour. 

''Nay,  my  liege,  it  passeth  my  power  to  satisfy  you," 
answered  Sir  Thomas. 

*'An  please  your  Majesty,  I  can  give  you  the  information 
you  seek,"  said  Xit,  stepping  forward.  *' 'Tis  Pacolet,  the 
French  saltinbanco,  and  his  Enchanted  Steed.     To  ordinary 


Chc^.  XV^         XIT  ON  THE   IVOODEN  HORSE  207 

observation  the  horse  seems  made  of  wood ;  but  Pacolet 
declares  it  is  endowed  with  magic  power,  and  will  fly  with  its 
rider  through  the  air.  I  have  never  seen  the  feat  done,  so  I 
dare  not  vouch  for  the  truth  of  the  statement. ' ' 

**Why,  thou  simple  knave,  'tis  an  old  tale  thou  art  re- 
citing," observed  the  Lady  Jane.  *' Pacolet' s  enchanted 
horse  is  described  in  the  French  romance  of  Valentine  and 
Orson." 

''I  know  not  how  that  may  be,  most  gracious  lady,  for 
I  am  not  well  read  in  French  romance,"  replied  Xit,  ''but 
yonder  fellow  is  Pacolet,  and  that  is  his  horse,  and  a  wonder- 
ful little  horse  it  is.  Your  Majesty  may  smile,  but  I  suspect 
there  is  magic  in  it. ' ' 

"If  so,  the  magician  ought  to  be  burned,"  observed  Ed- 
ward; "but  I  do  not  think  he  is  a  real  dealer  in  the  black 
art." 

**  What  will  you  say,  sire,  when  I  tell  you  that  this  sorcerer 
— this  Pacolet — affirms  that  his  horse  can  carry  me  across  the 
Tower  moat  ?  ' ' 

' '  When  I  see  it  done,  I  will  own  that  Pacolet  is  really  the 
magician  thou  proclaimest  him,"  replied  the  king.  "  I  am 
half  inclined  to  test  the  truth  of  the  fellow's  assertion.  How 
say  you,  fair  cousin  ?  "  he  added,  to  Lady  Jane.  ' '  Shall  we 
have  this  Pacolet  here,  and  make  him  exhibit  the  wondrous 
power  of  his  steed  ?  ' ' 

" 'Twould  be  a  curious  sight,  no  doubt,  if  the  man  him- 
self were  not  put  in  jeopardy,"  she  replied. 

"  Nay,  if  the  horse  be  brought,  I  crave  your  Majesty's  per- 
mission to  ride  him,"  said  Xit.  "I  have  an  extraordinary 
desire  to  perform  the  feat." 

' '  But  thou  mayst  break  thy  neck,  and  I  have  no  desire  to 
lose  thee." 

"Your  Majesty  is  most  gracious,  but  the  risk  is  nothing 
compared  with  the  honor  to  be  acquired. '  * 

"Let  the  knave  have  his  way,  good  my  liege,"  observed 


2o8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  1 

Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  '  *  No  harm  shall  befall  him.  To- 
morrow afternoon,  at  this  hour,  I  will  have  Pacolet  and  his 
steed  brought  hither,  and  if  it  shall  please  your  Majesty  to 
attend,  I  will  promise  you  good  sport. ' ' 

"  We  will  not  fail  you,  gentle  uncle ;  and  we  hope  our  fair 
cousin  will  condescend  to  be  present  likewise  ? ' ' 

As  may  be  supposed,  the  Lady  Jane  did  not  refuse  her 
assent,  and  after  another  short  turn  upon  the  ramparts,  the 
king  and  those  with  him  returned  to  the  palace. 

On  the  following  afternoon  Edward,  who  had  been  looking 
forward  with  some  eagerness  to  the  diversion  promised  him  by 
his  uncle,  again  appeared  on  the  ramparts,  but  with  a  much 
more  numerous  retinue  than  on  the  previous  occasion.  In 
addition  to  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  and  the  Marquis  of  Dorset, 
the  royal  party  now  comprised  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  lord 
chamberlain.  Sir  John  Gage,  and  Sir  John  Markham. 
Amongst  the  ladies,  besides  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset  and 
her  daughter,  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  were  the  princess  Eliza- 
beth and  the  queen -dowager.  The  two  latter  were  bidden  to 
the  exhibition  by  the  amiable  young  monarch  with  the  ex- 
press design  of  composing  the  differences  which  he  saw  still 
existed  between  them  and  his  uncle.  But  he  failed  in  effect- 
ing a  reconciliation.  Both  his  sister  and  the  queen  remained 
immovable.  Elizabeth  treated  Sir  Thomas  with  the  utmost 
disdain,  and  would  not  vouchsafe  him  either  a  word  or  a  look. 
Though  not  so  scornful  in  manner  as  the  princess,  Catherine 
was  equally  cold  and  reserved,  and  haughtily  repelled  her 
faithless  suitor's  advances.  Unable  to  comprehend  the  cause 
of  the  quarrel,  Edward  was  nevertheless  much  distressed  by 
it,  and  expressed  his  regrets  to  his  uncle,  who  shrugged  his 
shoulders  carelessly,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  that  gave  him  very 
little  concern.  Secretly,  however.  Sir  Thomas  had  used 
every  endeavor  to  re-establish  himself  in  the  queen's  good 
graces.  He  had  besought  a  private  interview,  but  the  re- 
quest was  refused.     He  had  written  to  her  more  than  one 


Chap.Xl^l         KIT  ON  THE   IVOODEN  HORSE  209 

moving  epistle,  full  of  regrets,  despair,  protestations,  and 
promises.  These  missives  were  conveyed  by  the  trusty  hand 
of  his  esquire,  but  no  response  came  back.  Still  Sir  Thomas, 
though  rebuffed,  was  not  discouraged.  The  storm  would 
soon  blow  over,  he  thought.  After  the  sharpest  frost  must 
come  a  thaw.  The  storm,  however,  was  of  some  duration, 
and  the  frost  lasted  longer  than  he  anticipated. 

Whatever  might  be  passing  within,  Sir  Thomas  took  care 
not  to  let  his  appearance  or  manner  be  affected  by  it.  Gay 
and  full  of  spirit  as  ever,  he  seemed  only  anxious  about  his 
royal  nephew's  amusement.  Seymour's  chief  aim,  in  fact, 
seemed  to  bring  Edward  and  the  Lady  Jane  together,  and  if 
he  failed  in  all  else,  in  this  he  entirely  succeeded.  During 
the  whole  time  he  remained  on  the  ramparts,  Edward  kept 
his  fair  cousin  near  him,  and  seemed  completely  engrossed 
by  her,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset, 
who  could  not  sufficiently  express  her  gratitude  to  the  con- 
triver of  the  meeting. 

But  it  is  time  to  ascertain  what  preparations  had  been  made 
for  Xit's  aerial  expedition.  The  Brass  Mount  had  been 
selected  as  the  starting-point  of  the  magic  steed.  The  sum- 
mit of  this  bastion,  the  largest,  the  loftiest,  and  the  strongest 
of  the  Tower  fortifications,  was  capable  of  accommodating  a 
great  number  of  persons,  but  only  the  royal  party  and  those 
engaged  in  the  exhibition  were  admitted  upon  it.  The  Brass 
Mount  was  defended  by  high  embattled  walls,  on  the  inner 
side  of  which  was  a  platform,  whereon  some  of  the  heaviest 
guns  in  the  fortress  were  placed,  with  their  muzzles  protruding 
through  the  crenellated  walls.  One  of  these  guns  had  been 
dismounted,  and  its  carriage  appropriated  to  the  Enchanted 
Horse,  which  was  now  set  upon  it,  with  its  head  towards  the 
opening  in  the  parapet,  as  if  ready  for  flight. 

A  strange -looking  steed  it  was  !  ugly  as  a  hobgoblin — large 
enough  undoubtedly  for  a  rider  of  Xit's  proportions,  yet  not 
equal  in  size  to  a  full-grown  Shetland  pony.  It  had  a  singu- 
14 


210  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  iBookl 

larly  weird  and  wicked -looking  head,  befitting  an  animal  pos- 
sessed of  supernatural  powers,  horns  as  well  as  ears,  and 
immense  eyes,  which  it  could  open  and  shut  and  turn  in  any 
direction.  Only  the  head,  neck,  and  tail  were  visible,  the 
body  of  the  horse  being  covered  with  red  and  yellow-striped 
trappings  that  reached  to  the  ground.  On  its  head  was  a 
shaffron  of  blood-red  plumes.  It  was  furnished  with  a  bridle 
having  very  broad  reins,  and  a  saddle  with  a  very  high  peak 
and  crupper;  but  in  lieu  of  stirrups  a  funnel-topped  boot 
dangled  on  either  side.     Such  was  Pacolet's  horse. 

Tlie  enchanter  himself  was  a  swarthy-complexioned  man, 
with  quick,  black  eyes,  and  gypsy  features,  and  probably  be- 
longed to  the  wandering  tribe.  Habited  in  a  tight-fitting 
dress  of  tawny  silk,  and  wearing  a  brass  girdle  inscribed  with 
mystic  characters,  and  a  tall  pointed  cap  covered  with  similar 
figures,  he  carried  a  white  rod,  with  a  small  gilt  apple  on  the 
top. 

On  either  side  of  the  magic  steed,  with  their  huge  partisans 
in  hand,  stood  Gog  and  Magog.  The  laughter  playing  about 
their  broad  features  showed  they  were  in  high  good  humor, 
and  expectant  of  entertainment.  The  dwarfish  hero  of  the  day 
had  not  yet  made  his  appearance,  he  being  in  the  king's  train. 

While  the  royal  party  were  taking  up  a  position  on  the 
platform  contiguous  to  the  magic  steed,  the  fantastic  appear- 
ance of  which  caused  much  merriment.  Sir  Thomas  Seymour 
went  up  to  Pacolet,  and  after  a  few  words  with  him,  clapped 
his  hands  to  intimate  that  all  was  ready.  At  this  signal,  the 
diminutive  figure  of  Xit  instantly  detached  itself  from  the 
group  of  laughing  pages  and  henchmen.  Marching  with  a  very 
consequential  step,  and  bowing  ceremoniously  to  the  king  as 
he  passed,  the  dwarf  was  met  half  way  by  Pacolet,  who, 
taking  him  by  the  hand,  lifted  him  on  to  the  platform. 

* '  My  steed  is  ready,  if  you  are,  good  Master  Xit, ' '  said  the 
courteous  enchanter.  **  Will  it  please  you  to  mount  him  at 
once  ? ' ' 


Chap.Xy'l         XIT  ON  THE   H^OODEN  HORSE  211 

**Not  so  fast,  worthy  Pacolet,"  rejoined  Xit,  conscious 
that  all  eyes  were  upon  him,  and  anxious  to  display  himself. 
'*  Give  me  a  moment  to  examine  thy  horse.  By  my  troth  ! 
he  hath  a  vicious-looking  head. ' ' 

**You  will  find  him  tractable  enough  when  you  are  on 
his  back,"  observed  Pacolet,  displaying  two  ranges  of  very 
white  teeth. 

'*  May  be  so ;  yet  I  like  not  the  expression  of  his  eye.  It 
hath  malice  and  devilry  in  it,  as  if  he  would  rejoice  to  throw 
me.     Saints  protect  us  !  the  beast  seemed  to  wink  at  me. ' ' 

*' Not  unlikely,"  replied  Pacolet,  who  had  placed  one 
hand  on  the  horse's  head  ;  **  he  has  a  habit  of  winking  when 
he  is  pleased. ' ' 

'*  Is  that  a  sign  of  his  satisfaction?"  observed  Xit.  **  I 
should  have  judged  the  contrary.  How  is  the  creature  desig- 
nated?" 

*  *  He  is  called  Daedalus — at  your  service,  good  Master 
Xit." 

"Daedalus!"  exclaimed  Xit,  startled.  "Pray  Heaven 
he  prove  me  not  an  Icarus.  I  like  not  the  name.  'Tis  of  ill 
omen." 

"  'Tis  a  name  like  any  other,"  observed  Pacolet,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "  So  ho  !  Daedalus — so  ho,  sir  !  You  see  he 
is  eager  for  flight. ' ' 

' '  If  thou  art  afraid  to  mount,  say  so  at  once,  and  retire, ' ' 
cried  Gog,  gruffly.  "  His  majesty  will  be  wearied  with  this 
trifling. ' ' 

"I  afraid?"  exclaimed  Xit,  indignantly.  "  When  didst 
ever  know  me  shrink  from  danger,  base  giant  ?  One  more 
question,  worthy  Pacolet,  and  I  have  done.  What  mean 
those  boots  ? ' ' 

"  They  are  designed  to  encase  thy  legs,  and  keep  thee  in 
thy  seat,"  rejoined  the  enchanter. 

*  *  But  I  can  maintain  my  seat  without  them, ' '  returned 
Xit,  with  a  displeased  look. 


212  THE  COhlSTABLE  OF  THE  TOPVER  [Book  t 

'*A  truce  to  this!  Off  with  thee  without  more  ado!" 
cried  Magog.  And  seizing  the  dwarf,  he  clapped  him  in  the 
saddle,  while  Pacolet,  without  a  moment's  loss  of  time, 
thrust  his  legs  into  the  boots.  Xit  was  disposed  to  be  rebel- 
lious during  the  latter  proceeding,  but  his  strength  availed 
him  little,  and  he  was  obliged  to  yield  with  the  best  grace  he 
could.  At  last,  Pacolet  left  him,  and  went  to  the  rear  of  the 
horse. 

On  this,  Xit  took  his  cap,  and  waving  an  adieu  to  the 
royal  party,  all  of  whom  looked  much  diverted  with  the 
scene,  kicked  his  boots  against  the  horse's  sides,  and  shouted, 
*'Away  with  thee,  Daedalus  ! — ^away  !" 

But  though  he  continued  the  application  with  increased 
vigor,  the  horse  would  not  stir,  but  emitted  an  angry  snorting 
sound. 

'*  Pest  take  him  !"  cried  the  dwarf.     '*  He  won't  move." 

'*Methought  thou  hadst  been  aware  of  the  secret,"  re- 
joined Pacolet.  **  Turn  the  pin  on  his  right  shoulder,  and  he 
will  move  quickly  enough." 

Xit  followed  the  enchanter's  instructions,  and  Daedalus 
immediately  began  to  glide  through  the  opening  in  the  para- 
pet, not  so  quickly,  though,  but  that  his  adventurous  little 
rider  was  again  enabled  to  wave  his  cap  to  the  king.  In 
another  moment  the  dwarf  had  disappeared,  and  a  hurried 
movement  was  made  to  the  edge  of  the  battlements  to  see 
what  had  become  of  him. 

It  was  then  perceptible  to  those  nearest  to  the  point  of 
departure  how  the  flight  was  to  be  accomplished.  Two  long 
pieces  of  wire,  sufficiently  strong  to  sustain  the  weight  re- 
quired, but  nearly  invisible  at  a  short  distance,  were  drawn 
across  the  moat  from  the  bastion  to  the  opposite  bank,  and 
along  these  wires  the  enchanted  horse  slipped,  being  guided 
in  its  descent  by  a  cord  fixed  to  its  crupper — which  cord  was 
held  by  Pacolet.  A  large  crowd  was  collected  on  the  banks 
of  the  moat^  but  the  spot  where  the  wires  were  fastened 


Chap.  Xy^         XIT  ON  THE   IVOODEN  HORSE  213 

down,  and  where  it  was  expected  the  dwarf  would  descend, 
was  kept  clear  by  Og  and  half  a  dozen  tall  yeomen  of  the 
guard. 

No  sooner  did  Xit,  mounted  on  the  wooden  horse,  issue 
from  the  battlements,  than  a  loud  shout  was  raised  by  the 
beholders,  to  which  the  delighted  dwarf  responded  by  waving 
his  hat  to  them,  and  he  then  commenced  his  downward 
course  in  the  most  triumphant  manner.  His  exultation 
increased  as  he  advanced ;  but  it  cost  him  dear.  While 
replying  to  the  cheers  with  which  he  was  greeted,  he  leaned 
too  much  towards  the  left,  and  the  horse  immediately  turned 
over,  leaving  his  rider  hanging  head  downwards  over  the 
moat. 

The  shouts  of  laughter  were  instantly  changed  to  cries 
of  affright,  but  no  assistance  could  be  rendered  the  unfor- 
tunate dwarf,  for  Pacolet  vainly  tried  to  pull  him  up  again. 
The  spectators,  however,  were  not  kept  long  in  suspense. 
Xit's  struggles  soon  disengaged  his  legs  from  the  boots, 
and  he  dropped  headlong  into  the  moat,  and  disappeared 
beneath  the  tide. 

But  rescue  was  at  hand.  With  the  utmost  promptitude  Og 
dashed  into  the  fosse,  and  waded  out  to  the  spot  where 
Xit  had  sunk,  which  was  about  the  middle  of  the  moat. 
Though  the  water  quickly  reached  up  to  his  shoulders,  the 
giant  went  on  until  the  head  of  the  mannikin  suddenly  popped 
up  beside  him.  With  a  shout  of  satisfaction  Og  then  seized 
him,  held  him  aloft  like  a  dripping  water-rat  and  bore  him 
safely  ashore,  amid  the  laughter  and  acclamations  of  the 
beholders. 


H4  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  I 


CHAPTER  XVI 

m  WHAT  MANNER  THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  KING  HENRY  VIII. 
IVERE  CELEBRATED— SHOWING  HOIV  THE  FUNERAL 
PROCESSION  SET  FORTH  FROM  THE  PALACE  AT  WEST- 
MINSTER 

The  time  appointed  for  placing  the  late  king  within 
the  tomb  now  drew  nigh,  and  as  the  obsequies  were  the 
most  magnificent  ever  celebrated  in  this  country,  or  perhaps 
in  any  other,  we  may  be  excused  for  dwelling  upon  them 
at  some  length;  the  rather,  that  besides  presenting  a  very 
striking  illustration  of  the  customs  of  an  age  that  delighted  in 
shows  and  solemnities  of  all  kinds,  the  extraordinary  honors 
paid  to  Henry  on  his  interment  prove  the  estimation  in  which 
his  memory  was  held  by  his  subjects;  and  that  notwith- 
standing the  tyranny  of  his  rule,  he  was  regarded  as  a  mighty 
monarch.  By  its  unprecedented  splendor,  his  burial  worthily 
closed  a  reign  which  was  one  long  pageant — a  pageant  for  the 
most  part  gorgeous;  sometimes  gloomy,  tragical,  and  even 
awful;  but  ever  grand  and  imposing.  Luckily,  ample  ma- 
terials for  accurate  description  are  provided  for  us,  and 
we  shall  avail  ourselves  freely  of  them,  in  order  to  present 
a  full  account  of  the  most  remarkable  royal  funeral  on 
record. 

Embalmed  by  apothecaries  and  chirurgeons  of  greatest 
skill  in  the  art,  wrapped  in  cerecloth  of  many  folds,  and  in  an 
outer  cover  of  cloth  of  vairy  and  velvet,  bound  with  cords  of 
silk,  the  corpse  of  the  puissant  monarch  was  at  first  laid  out 
on  the  couch  wherein  he  had  expired,  with  a  scroll  sewn  on 
the  breast  containing  his  titles  and  the  date  of  his  demise, 
written  in  large  and  small  characters.     The  body  was  next 


Chap.  Xyi]        OBSEQUIES  OF  KING  HENRY  VHI  215 

cased  in  lead,  and  deposited  in  a  second  coffin  of  oak,  elabor- 
ately sculptured,  and  of  enormous  size. 

Enveloped  in  a  pall  of  blue  velvet,  whereon  was  laid  a  sil- 
ver cross,  the  ponderous  coffin  was  removed  to  the  privy - 
chamber,  and  set  upon  a  large  frame  covered  with  cloth  of 
gold,  where  it  remained  for  five  days;  during  which  time 
lights  were  constantly  burning  within  the  chamber,  a  watch 
kept  night  and  day  by  thirty  gentlemen  of  the  privy-chamber, 
and  masses  and  orisons  offered  for  the  repose  of  the  soul  of  the 
departed  monarch  by  the  chaplains. 

Meanwhile,  all  the  approaches  to  the  chapel  within  the 
palace  were  hung  with  black,  and  garnished  with  escutcheons 
of  the  king's  arms,  descents,  and  marriages;  while  in  the 
chapel  itself  the  floors  and  walls  were  covered  with  black 
cloth,  the  sides  and  ceilings  set  with  banners  and  standards 
of  Saint  George,  and  the  high  altar  covered  with  black  velvet, 
and  adorned  with  magnificent  plate  and  jewels.  In  the  midst 
of  the  sacred  apartment,  surrounded  by  barriers,  clothed  with 
black,  with  a  smaller  altar  at  its  foot,  adorned  like  the  high 
altar  with  plate  and  jewels,  was  set  a  superb  catafalque,  gar- 
nished with  pensils  and  escutcheons,  and  having  at  each  cor- 
ner the  banner  of  a  saint  beaten  in  fine  gold  upon  damask. 
A  majesty  of  rich  cloth  of  gold,  with  a  valance  of  black  silk 
fringed  with  black  silk  and  gold,  canopied  this  catafalque, 
which  was  lighted  by  fourscore  square  tapers,  each  two  feet  in 
length,  and  containing  altogether  two  thousand  pounds' 
weight  of  wax. 

In  regard  to  some  of  the  accessories  here  particularized,  or 
which  will  be  subsequently  mentioned,  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  the  **  Banner"  which  could  be  borne  by  none  of  inferior 
degree  to  a  banneret,  was  square  in  form,  and  displayed  the 
arms  of  the  sovereign  all  over  it.  The  *'  Standard  "  differed 
in  shape  from  the  banner,  being  much  longer,  and  slit  at  the 
extremity.  This  ensign  did  not  display  armorial  bearings. 
The  '  *  Pennon  * '  was  less  than  the  standard,  rounded  at  the 


2i6  THE   CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  {Booh  I 

extremity,  and  charged  with  arms.  *'  Bannerols  "  were  ban- 
ners of  great  width,  representing  alliances  and  descents. 
**  Pensils"  were  small  flags  shaped  like  the  vanes  on  pinna- 
cles. Banners  of  saints  and  images  were  still  used  at  the  time 
of  Henry's  interment,  when,  as  will  be  seen,  many  of  the  rites 
of  the  Church  of  Rome  were  observed. 

On  Wednesday,  2nd  of  February,  1547,  being  Candlemas 
Day,  during  the  night,  the  coffin  having  been  covered  with  a 
rich  pall  of  cloth  of  tissue,  crossed  with  white  tissue,  and  gar- 
nished with  escutcheons  of  the  king's  arms,  was  removed  with 
great  ceremony  and  reverence  to  the  chapel,  where  it  was 
placed  on  the  catafalque,  all  the  tapers  about  which  had  been 
previously  lighted.  A  rich  cloth  of  gold,  adorned  with  pre- 
cious stones,  was  there  thrown  over  the  coffin. 

On  the  day  after  the  removal  of  the  royal  corpse,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Dorset,  as  chief  mourner,  with  twelve  other  noble- 
men, foremost  among  whom  were  the  Earls  of  Arundel,  Ox- 
ford, Shrewsbury,  Derby,  and  Sussex,  assembled  in  the 
pallet -chamber,  arrayed  in  sable  weeds,  with  hoods  over  their 
heads,  and  thence  proceeded  in  order,  two  and  two,  to  the 
chapel — the  chief  mourner  marching  first,  with  his  train  borne 
after  him.  Officers  of  arms  and  gentlemen  ushers  headed  the 
solemn  procession,  which  was  closed  by  the  vice-chamberlain 
and  other  officials,  all  in  suits  of  woe.  On  arriving  at  the 
catafalque,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  knelt  down  at  its  head, 
and  his  companions  on  either  side  of  it. 

Then  Norroy,  king  of  arms,  appearing  at  the  door  of  the 
choir,  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  *'  Of  your  charity  pray  for  the 
soul  of  the  high  and  most  mighty  prince,  our  late  sovereign, 
lord  and  king,  Henry  the  Eighth. ' ' 

Next,  Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  Tunstal,  Bishop  of 
Durham,  and  Bonner,  Bishop  of  London,  came  forth  from 
the  revestry  in  their  full  robes,  and  proceeding  to  the  high 
altar,  a  solemn  requiem  was  sung,  the  whole  choir  joining  in 
the  hymn. 


Chap.  Xyi^       OBSEQUIES  OF  KING  HENRY  Fill  217 

Here  the  body  remained  for  three  days,  constant  watch 
being  kept  about  it,  and  the  tapers  continuing  ever  burning. 
The  solemnities  connected  with  the  burial  were  to  occupy 
as  many  more  days.  The  royal  corpse  was  to  be  conveyed 
with  all  possible  ceremony  to  Windsor  Castle.  The  first 
day's  halt  was  to  be  at  the  convent  of  Si  on.  On  the  second 
day,  Windsor  was  to  be  reached.  On  the  third  day,  the 
interment  was  to  take  place  in  Saint  George's  Chapel. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  morning  of  Monday,  14th  Febru- 
ary, the  solemn  ceremonial  began.  The  shades  of  night  had 
not  yet  wholly  fled,  but  abundance  of  flaming  torches  cast 
a  strange  and  lurid  light  on  the  gates,  towers,  and  windows 
of  the  palace,  and  on  the  numerous  dusky  groups  collected  in 
its  courts. 

Before  the  great  hall  door  was  drawn  up  a  right  noble 
funeral  chariot,  whereunto  were  harnessed  seven  Flanders 
horses  of  the  largest  size,  wholly  trapped  in  black  velvet  down 
to  the  pasterns,  each  horse  bearing  four  escutcheons  of  the 
late  king's  arms,  beaten  in  fine  gold  upon  double  sarcenet, 
upon  his  trappings,  and  having  a  shaffron  of  the  king's  arms 
on  his  head.  The  car  was  marvellous  to  behold.  It  was  of 
immense  size,  and  its  wheels,  being  thickly  gilt,  looked  as  if 
made  of  burnished  gold.  The  lower  part  of  the  vehicle  was 
hung  with  blue  velvet,  reaching  to  the  ground  between  the 
wheels ;  and  the  upper  part  consisted  of  a  stupendous  canopy, 
supported  by  four  pillars,  overlaid  with  cloth  of  gold,  the 
canopy  being  covered  with  the  same  stufl",  and  having  in  the 
midst  of  it  a  richly  gilt  dome.  Within  the  car  was  laid 
a  thick  mattress  of  cloth  of  gold  and  tissue  fringed  with  blue 
silk  and  gold. 

After  the  funeral  car  had  thus  taken  up  its  station,  there 
issued  from  the  chapel  a  solemn  train,  consisting  of  mitred 
prelates  in  their  copes,  and  temporal  lords  in  mourning 
habits,  the  bishops  walking  two  and  two,  and  reciting  prayers 
as   they  moved   along.     Then   came   the   coflin,  borne   by 


2i8  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

sixteen  stout  yeomen  of  the  guard,  under  a  rich  canopy  of 
blue  velvet,  fringed  with  silk  and  gold,  sustained  by  blue 
staves  with  tops  of  gold,  each  staff  being  borne  by  a  baron — 
namely,  the  Lords  Abergavenny,  Conyers,  Latimer,  Fitz- 
walter.  Bray,  and  Cromwell.  After  the  coffin  followed  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset  and  the  twelve  mourners,  the  latter  walking 
two  and  two.  Many  torch-bearers  attended  the  procession, 
the  greater  number  marching  on  either  side  of  the  body. 
When  the  coffin  had  been  reverently  placed  within  the  chariot, 
a  pall  of  cloth  of  gold  was  cast  over  it. 

Then  was  brought  forward  an  object,  considered  the  grand 
triumph  of  the  show,  which  excited  wonder  and  admiration  in 
all  who  looked  upon  it.  This  was  an  Q^gy  of  the  departed 
monarch,  beautifully  sculptured  in  wood  by  the  most  skilful 
carver  of  the  day,  and  painted  by  a  hand  no  less  cunning 
than  that  of  Holbein  himself.  Bedecked  in  Henry's  own 
habiliments  of  cloth  of  gold  and  velvet,  enriched  with 
precious  stones  of  all  kinds,  this  image  had  a  marvellous  and 
lifelike  effect.  In  the  right  hand  was  placed  a  golden 
sceptre,  while  the  left  sustained  the  orb  of  the  world  with 
a  cross.  Upon  the  head  was  set  a  crown  imperial  of  inestima- 
ble value.  Over  the  shoulders  was  the  collar  of  the  Garter, 
and  below  the  knee  was  the  lesser  badge  of  the  order  as  worn 
by  the  king  himself  in  his  lifetime.  The  attitude  of  the 
figure  was  noble  and  commanding,  and  exactly  like  that 
of  the  imperious  monarch. 

Borne  by  the  three  gigantic  warders  of  the  Tower,  who 
seemed  not  a  little  proud  of  their  office,  this  image  was 
placed  in  the  chariot  under  the  superintendence  of  Fowler 
and  other  gentlemen  of  the  privy-chamber,  its  feet  resting 
upon  a  cushion  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  its  upright  position 
being  secured  by  silken  bands  fastened  to  the  four  pillars 
of  the  car. 

The  effigy  of  the  king  being  fixed  in  its  place,  six  ban- 
nerols of  marriages  and  descents  were  hung  on  either  side  of 


Chap.  AT/]        OBSEQUIES  OF  KING  HENRY  l^III  219 

the  chariot,  and  one  bannerol  at  each  end.  All  being  now 
arranged,  Sir  Anthony  Denny  and  Sir  William  Herbert,  chief 
gentlemen  of  the  privy-chamber,  entered  the  car,  stationing 
themselves,  the  one  at  the  head  of  the  coffin,  and  the  other  at 
its  foot. 

During  these  preparations,  which  occupied  a  considerable 
time,  a  vast  crowd  had  collected  within  the  precincts  of  the 
palace,  and  this  assemblage  began  now  to  manifest  impatience 
in  various  ways.  Even  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion  did  not 
prevent  many  quarrels  and  scuffles,  which  the  halberdiers  and 
mounted  pursuivants  of  arms  strove  in  vain  to  check.  As  the 
time  advanced,  and  the  crowd  grew  denser,  these  disturb- 
ances became  more  frequent,  and  the  guard  had  enough  to  do 
to  keep  the  tumultuous  and  noisy  throng  outside  the  barriers, 
which  extended  from  the  palace  gates  beyond  Charing- cross, 
the  whole  of  this  space  being  filled  by  countless  spectators, 
while  every  window  was  occupied  and  every  roof  had  its 
cluster  of  human  beings. 

Just  as  the  bell  of  Westminster  Abbey  tolled  forth  the  hour 
of  eight,  the  great  bell  of  Saint  Paul's,  never  rung  save  on 
the  death  or  funeral  of  a  monarch,  began  its  awful  boom,  and 
amidst  the  slow  and  solemn  sounding  of  bells  from  every 
adjacent  steeple,  coupled  with  the  rolling  of  muffled  drums, 
the  funeral  procession  set  forth  from  the  courts  of  the  palace. 

First  rode  two  porters  of  the  king's  house,  bearing  long 
black  staves ;  after  them  came  the  sergeant  of  the  vestry,  with 
the  verger;  next,  the  cross,  with  the  children,  clerks,  and 
priests  of  the  chapel,  in  their  surplices,  singing  orisons.  On 
either  side  of  this  train,  from  the  cross  to  the  dean  of  the 
chapel,  walked  two  hundred  and  fifty  poor  men,  in  long 
mourning  gowns  and  hoods,  having  badges  on  the  left 
shoulder — the  red  and  white  cross,  in  a  sun  shining,  with  the 
crown  imperial  above  it.  Each  of  these  men  carried  a  long 
blazing  torch,  and  the  number  of  these  flambeaux  made  an 
extraordinary  show.     Two  carts  laden  with  additional  torches 


220  THE  CONSTyfBLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

for  use  during  the  progress  of  the  procession,  attended  them. 
This  division  was  closed  by  the  bearer  of  the  Dragon  stand- 
ard, with  a  sergeant-at-arms  holding  a  mace  on  either  side  of 
him.  Backwards  and  forwards  along  the  line  rode  mounted 
pursuivants  to  keep  order. 

Next  came  a  long  train  of  harbingers,  servants  of  ambassa- 
dors, trumpeters,  chaplains,  esquires,  and  officers  of  the 
household,  according  to  degree. 

After  this  miscellaneous  troop  came  the  standard  of  the 
Greyhound,  borne  by  Sir  Nicholas  Stanley,  with  a  sergeant- 
at-arms  on  either  side.  Next  followed  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
Aldermen  of  London,  and  after  them  the  knights,  bannerets, 
chaplains  of  dignity,  and  all  those  of  the  king's  household 
who  were  knights,  with  other  notable  strangers.  This  division 
was  under  the  conduct  of  two  heralds  and  other  officers,  who 
rode  from  standard  to  standard  to  keep  order. 

Next  came  the  standard  of  the  Lion,  borne  by  Lord  Wind- 
sor, hooded  and  trapped,  and  attended  by  two  sergeants,  with 
maces.  He  was  followed  by  the  lower  council,  walking  two 
and  two ;  by  the  lords  of  the  council,  and  by  a  long  line  of 
noble  strangers  and  ambassadors.  With  the  ambassador  of 
the  Emperor  Charles  V. ,  came  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Order  was  maintained  by  four  mounted  heralds. 

Next  came  the  embroidered  banner  of  the  King's  Arms, 
borne  by  Lord  Talbot,  with  his  hood  drawn  over  his  head, 
and  his  horse  trapped  in  black.  Then  followed  Carlisle, 
herald  of  arms,  bearing  the  king's  helm  and  crest,  his  horse 
being  trapped  and  garnished.  Then  Norroy,  king-at-arms, 
bearing  the  target.  Then  Clarencieux,  with  the  king's  rich 
coat  of  arms  curiously  embroidered.  All  these  had  escutcheons 
on  the  trappings  of  their  horses,  and  were  under  the  guidance 
of  sergeants-at-arms,  furnished  with  maces. 

The  funeral  car  now  came  in  sight.  Before  it  were  carried 
twelve  banners  of  descents,  the  bearers  walking  two  and  two. 
Led  by  grooms  in  mourning  apparel,  the  seven  great  horses 


Chap,  Xf^II        OBSEQUIES  OF  KING  HENRY  Vllt  221 

appointed  to  drag  along  the  ponderous  machine  were  ridden 
by  children  of  honor,  arrayed  in  black,  with  hoods  on  their 
heads,  each  of  them  carrying  a  bannerol  of  the  king's 
dominions  and  of  the  ancient  arms  of  England.  On  either 
side  of  the  horses  walked  thirty  persons  in  sable  attire,  hold- 
ing tall,  flaming,  staff  torches.  Besides  these  there  were 
numerous  grooms  and  pages. 

At  each  corner  of  the  car  walked  a  knight,  with  a  banner 
of  descents;  and  on  either  side  of  it  rode  three  others, 
cloaked  and  hooded,  their  steeds  being  trapped  in  black  to 
the  ground.  Those  on  the  right  were  Sir  Thomas  Seymour, 
Sir  Thomas  Heneage,  and  Sir  Thomas  Paston ;  those  on  the 
left  were  Sir  John  Gage,  Sir  Thomas  Darcy,  and  Sir  Maurice 
Berkeley. 

In  the  rear  of  the  funeral  car  rode  the  chief  mourner,  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset,  alone,  with  his  horse  trapped  in  black 
velvet,  and  after  him  came  the  twelve  mourners  with  their 
steeds  trapped  to  the  ground.  After  the  mourners  rode  the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  lord  chamberlain  of  the  household,  with 
his  hood  on  his  shoulder,  to  intimate  that  he  was  not  a 
mourner.  After  the  lord  chamberlain  came  Sir  Anthony 
Brown,  master  of  the  horse,  bareheaded,  and  leading  the 
king's  favorite  milk-white  steed,  trapped  all  in  cloth  of  gold 
down  to  the  ground. 

Nine  mounted  henchmen  followed  next,  clad  in  suits  of 
woe,  and  hooded,  their  horses  trapped  to  the  ground,  and 
having  shaffrons  on  their  heads,  and  themselves  bearing  ban- 
nerols of  the  arms  of  England  before  the  Conquest. 

Then  followed  Sir  Francis  Bryan,  master  of  the  henchmen. 
Then  Sir  Anthony  Wingfield,  vice-chamberlain  and  captain 
of  the  guard,  followed  by  a  large  company  of  the  guard,  in 
black,  marching  three  and  three,  each  with  a  halberd  on  his 
shoulder  with  the  point  downwards.  A  long  line  of  noble- 
men's servants  and  others  closed  the  cortege. 

It  was  now  broad  day,  though  dull  and  foggy,  but  the 


232  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

countless  torches  lighted  up  the  procession,  and  gave  it  a 
strange,  ghostly  look.  Thus  seen,  the  black,  hooded  figures 
appeared  mysterious  and  awful.  But  it  was  upon  the  stupend- 
ous funeral  car  that  all  regards  were  concentrated.  So  won- 
derfully lifelike  was  the  effigy  of  the  king,  that  not  a  few 
among  the  credulous  and  half-informed  spectators  thought 
Henry  himself  had  returned  to  earth  to  superintend  his  own 
funeral  ceremony ;  while  on  all  hands  the  image  was  regarded 
as  a  miracle  of  art.  Exclamations  of  wonder  and  delight 
arose  on  all  sides  as  it  went  by,  and  many  persons  knelt  down 
as  if  a  saint  were  being  borne  along.  The  head  of  the  cor- 
tege had  passed  Spring  Gardens  some  time  before  the  rear 
issued  from  the  courts  of  the  palace,  and,  seen  from  Charing- 
cross,  the  long  line  of  dusky  figures,  with  the  standards,  ban- 
ners, torches,  and  chariot,  presented  such  a  spectacle  as  has 
never  since  been  seen  from  that  spot,  though  many  a  noble 
procession  has  in  after  times  pursued  the  same  route. 

At  the  foot  of  the  noble  Gothic  cross  a  crowd  of  persons 
had  been  collected  from  an  early  hour.  Amongst  them  was 
a  tall  Franciscan  friar,  who  maintained  a  moody  silence,  and 
who  regarded  the  pageant  with  so  much  sternness  and  scorn 
that  many  marvelled  he  should  have  come  thither  to  look  upon 
it.  When  the  ponderous  funeral  car,  after  toiling  its  way  up 
the  ascent,  came  to  the  Cross,  a  brief  halt  was  called,  and 
during  this  pause  the  tall  monk  pressed  forward,  and  throwing 
back  his  hood,  so  as  fully  to  display  his  austere  and  death-pale 
features,  lighted  up  by  orbs  blazing  with  insane  light,  stretched 
out  his  hand  towards  the  receptacle  of  the  royal  corpse,  and 
exclaimed,  with  a  loud  voice,  "In  the  plenitude  of  his  power 
I  rebuked  for  his  sinfulness  the  wicked  king  whom  ye  now 
bear  to  the  tomb  with  all  this  senseless  pomp.  Inspired  from 
above,  I  lifted  up  my  voice,  and  told  him,  that  as  his  life  had 
been  desperately  wicked,  so  his  doom  should  be  that  of  the 
worst  of  kings,  and  dogs  would  lick  his  blood.  And  ere  yet 
he  shall  be  laid  in  the  tomb  my  words  will  come  to 


Chap.  XyH'\      HAPPENINGS  AT  SION  CHURCH  223 

At  this  juncture  two  pursuivants  rode  up  and  threatened  to 
brain  the  rash  speaker  with  their  maces,  but  some  of  the  crowd 
screened  him  from  their  rage. 

**  Strike  him  not !"  cried  an  elderly  man  of  decent  appear- 
ance. '*He  is  crazed.  'Tis  the  mad  Franciscan,  Father 
Peto.  Make  way  for  him  there  !  Let  him  pass!"  he  added 
to  those  behind,  who  charitably  complying,  the  monk  escaped 
uninjured. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WHAT  WAS  SEEN  AND  HEARD  AT  MIDNIGHT  BY  THE  WATCH- 
ERS IN  THE  CONVENTUAL  CHURCH  AT  SION 

Beautifully  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  between 
Brentford  and  Isleworth,  and  about  midway  between  the 
metropolis  and  Windsor,  stood  the  suppressed  Convent  of  Sion, 
selected  as  the  first  halting  place  of  the  funeral  cortege.  In 
this  once  noble,  but  now  gloomy  and  desecrated  monastery, 
which  had  been  stripped  of  all  its  wealth  and  endowments  by 
the  rapacious  monarch,  was  confined  the  lovely  but  ill-fated 
Catherine  Howard,  who  had  poured  forth  her  unavailing  in- 
tercessions for  mercy  from  on  high  at  the  altar  near  which, 
later  on,  the  body  of  her  tyrant  husband  was  to  rest,  and  who 
had  been  taken  thence,  half  frantic  with  terror,  to  die  by  his 
ruthless  decree  on  the  scaffold.  Guilt  she  might  have,  but 
what  was  her  guilt  compared  with  that  of  her  inexorable  hus- 
band and  judge ! 

Shortly  after  the  events  about  to  be  narrated,  Sion  was 
bestowed  by  Edward  VI.  on  his  uncle,  the  lord  protector ; 
but  from  the  time  of  its  suppression  up  to  this  period,  it  had 
been,  comparatively  speaking,  deserted.  Reverting  to  the 
crown,   the  estate  was   next   granted  to  the  Duke  of  Nor- 


2  24  7"//£   CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

thumberland,  on  whose  attainder  it  was  once  more  forfeited. 
The  monastery  was  restored  and  re-endowed  by  Mary — ^but  it 
is  needless  to  pursue  its  history  further. 

Mighty  preparations  had  now  been  made  within  the  neg- 
lected convent  for  the  lodging  and  accommodation  of  the 
immense  funeral  retinue.  Luckily,  the  building  was  of  great 
extent,  and  its  halls  and  chambers,  though  decaying  and 
dilapidated,  capable  of  holding  an  incredible  number  of  per- 
sons. Their  capacity  in  this  respect  was  now  about  to  be 
thoroughly  tested.  Hospitality,  at  the  period  of  our  history, 
was  practised  at  seasons  of  woe  on  as  grand  and  profuse 
a  scale  as  at  festivities  and  rejoicings,  and  the  extraordinary 
supplies  provided  for  the  consumption  of  the  guests  expected 
at  Sion  were  by  no  means  confined  to  funeral  baked  meats. 
Cold  viands  there  were  in  abundance — joints  of  prodigious 
size — chines  and  sirloins  of  beef,  chines  of  pork,  baked  red- 
deer,  baked  swan,  baked  turkey,  baked  sucking-pig,  gammon 
of  bacon  pie,  wild-boar  pie,  roe  pie,  hare  pie,  soused  sturgeon, 
soused  salmon,  and  such  like — ^but  there  was  no  lack  of  hot 
provisions,  roast,  boiled  and  stewed,  nor  of  an  adequate 
supply  of  sack,  hippocrass,  Rhenish,  Canary,  and  stout 
October  ale. 

Every  care  was  taken  that  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal, 
with  the  foreign  ambassadors  and  other  persons  of  distinction, 
should  be  suitably  lodged,  but  the  majority  of  the  actors 
in  the  gloomy  pageant  were  left  to  shift  for  themselves,  and 
the  dormitories  of  the  convent,  even  in  its  most  flourish- 
ing days,  had  never  known  half  so  many  occupants.  The 
halls  and  principal  chambers  of  the  ancient  religious  structure 
were  hung  with  black,  and  garnished  with  escutcheons,  and 
the  fine  old  conventual  church,  refitted  for  the  occasion,  was 
likewise  clothed  with  mourning,  the  high  altar  being  entirely 
covered  with  black  velvet,  and  adorned  with  all  the  jewels 
and  gold  and  silver  plate  of  which  the  shrines  of  the  monas- 
tery had  been  previously  plundered.     In  the  midst  of  the 


Chap.  Xyill      HAPPENIhIGS  AT  SION  CHURCH  225 

choir,  protected  by  double  barriers,  was  placed  a  catafalque 
even  more  stately  than  that  provided  in  the  chapel  of  the 
palace  at  Westminster,  with  a  lofty  canopy,  the  valance 
whereof  was  fringed  with  black  silk  and  gold,  and  the  sides 
garnished  with  pensils,  escutcheons,  and  bannerols.  Around 
this  catafalque  burnt  a  surprising  number  of  large  wax  tapers. 

The  progress  of  the  funeral  cortdge  was  necessarily  slow, 
and  it  was  past  one  o'clock  ere  it  reached  Brentford,  at  which 
place  a  number  of  nobles,  knights,  and  esquires,  together 
with  the  lord  mayor  and  aldermen  of  London,  rode  on 
towards  Sion,  and  arranged  themselves  in  long  lines  on  either 
side  of  the  convent  gates.  About  two  o'clock,  the  funeral 
car  drew  up  at  the  west  door  of  the  church,  and  the  effigy  of 
the  king  was  first  taken  out  by  the  three  gigantic  warders, 
and  carried  by  them  with  befitting  care  and  reverence  to  the 
revestry.  After  which  the  coffin  was  ceremoniously  brought 
out,  and  conveyed  through  two  lines  of  nobles  and  ambas- 
sadors to  the  receptacle  provided  for  it  with!n  the  choir — the 
bishops  in  their  mitres  and  copes  preceding  it.  Thus  de- 
posited, the  coffin  was  covered  with  a  blue  velvet  pall,  having 
a  white  cross  embroidered  upon  it.  At  the  head  of  the 
pall  were  laid  the  king's  helm  and  crest,  on  the  right  and  left, 
his  sword  and  targe,  and  his  embroidered  coat  at  the  foot. 
All  round  the  exquisitely  carved  choir  were  ranged  the 
various  banners  and  standards  used  in  the  procession. 

Illumined  by  a  thousand  tapers,  crowded  with  mourners  of 
the  highest  rank,  and  with  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  occupied 
in  their  sacred  functions,  with  chaplains,  choristers,  and 
others,  the  appearance  of  the  choir,  decorated  as  already 
described  with  banners  and  escutcheons,  was  singularly  strik- 
ing, and  when  a  solemn  dirge  was  performed  by  the  Bishop 
of  London  and  the  choristers,  the  combined  effect  of  spec- 
tacle and  hymn  was  almost  sublime.  Not  only  was  the  choir 
crowded,  but  the  entire  body  of  the  large  conventual  church 
was  filled  to  inconvenience  by  those  engaged  in  the  ceremony. 
15 


2  26  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

No  sooner,  however,  was  the  service  ended  than  the  church 
was  speedily  cleared  of  all  save  the  watchers,  and  the  demoli- 
tion of  the  good  cheer  prepared  for  them  in  the  halls  and 
refectory  commenced  in  right  earnest.  Eating  and  drinking 
there  was  from  one  end  of  the  monastery  to  the  other,  and  the 
purveyors,  grooms,  and  yeomen  of  the  kitchen,  larder,  cellar, 
and  buttery,  had  enough  to  do  to  answer  the  incessant 
demands  made  upon  them.  Much  merriment,  we  regret  to 
say,  prevailed  among  the  mourners,  and  some  ditties,  that 
did  not  sound  exactly  like  doleful  strains,  were  occasionally 
heard.  Provisions  were  liberally  given  to  all  comers  at  the 
convent  gates,  and  alms  distributed  to  the  poor. 

Constant  watch  was  kept  about  the  body,  and  the  guard 
was  relieved  every  hour.  But,  notwithstanding  the  vigilance 
exercised,  a  singular  incident  took  place,  which  we  shall  pro- 
ceed to  relate. 

A  little  before  midnight  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  three 
gigantic  warders  to  take  their  station  beside  the  body,  and  as 
the  elder  brother  stood  on  the  left  of  the  hearse,  leaning  on 
his  enormous  halberd,  he  remarked  that  a  dark  stream  had 
issued  from  beneath  the  pall  covering  the  coffin,  and  was 
slowly  trickling  down  the  escutcheoned  side  of  the  catafalque. 
Horror-stricken  at  the  sight,  he  remained  gazing  at  this  en- 
sanguined current  until  some  drops  had  fallen  upon  the 
ground.  He  then  uttered  an  exclamation,  which  quickly 
brought  his  brothers  to  him. 

*'  What  alarms  thee,  Og?  "  cried  the  two  giants. 

"  Look  there  !  "  said  the  other.  *"Tis  the  king's  blood. 
The  coffin  has  burst." 

'*  No  doubt  of  it !"  exclaimed  Gog.  **  'Tis  a  terrible  mis- 
chance— ^but  we  cannot  be  blamed  for  it. ' ' 

**A  truce  with  such  folly  !"  cried  Magog.  '*  'Tis  the  rough 
roads  between  this  and  Brentford,  which  shook  the  car  so  sorely, 
that  are  in  fault,  and  not  we  !  But  what  is  to  be  done  ?  Me- 
thinks  the  alarm  ought  to  be  given  to  the  grand  master. ' ' 


Chap.  Xl^in      HAPPENWGS  AT  SION  CHURCH  227 

'*Ay,"  replied  Og ;  **  but  the  flow  of  blood  increases.  We 
ought  to  stay  it. " 

*  *  How  can  that  be  done  ?  ' '  cried  Gog.  * '  Can  we  mend  the 
bursten  coffin  ? ' ' 

'*  Others  may,  if  we  cannot,"  cried  Og.  **  No  time  must 
be  lost  in  obtaining  aid.  These  fearful  stains  must  be  effaced 
ere  the  bearers  come  to-morrow. ' ' 

Without  more  ado  he  hurried  towards  the  great  western  door 
of  the  church,  and  was  followed  by  his  brothers,  who  seemed 
quite  bewildered  by  the  occurrence.  But  they  had  scarcely 
reached  the  door,  when  they  were  suddenly  arrested  by  a  fierce 
barking,  as  of  hounds,  apparently  proceeding  from  the  choir. 

Appalled  by  the  sound,  they  instantly  stopped,  and,  turn- 
ing round,  beheld  a  spectacle  that  transfixed  them  with  horror. 
Within  the  barriers,  and  close  beside  the  coffin  on  the  side  of 
the  catafalque  down  which  the  loathy  current  had  flowed, 
stood  a  tall,  dark  figure,  which,  under  the  circumstances, 
they  might  well  be  excused  for  deeming  unearthly.  With 
this  swart  figure  were  two  large,  coal-black  hounds  of  Saint 
Hubert's  breed,  with  eyes  that,  in  the  imagination  of  the 
giants,  glowed  like  carbuncles.  Encouraged  by  their  master, 
these  hounds  were  rending  the  blood-stained  cover  of  the 
catafalque  with  their  teeth. 

*  * '  Tis  Satan  in  person  ! ' '  exclaimed  Magog.  * '  But  I  will  face 
him,  and  check  those  hell-hounds  in  their  infernal  work." 

"  I  will  go  with  thee,"  said  Og.  '*  I  fear  neither  man  nor 
demon. ' ' 

'  *  Nay,  I  will  not  be  left  behind, ' '  said  Gog,  accompanying 
them. 

But,  notwithstanding  their  vaunted  courage,  they  advanced 
with  caution,  and  ere  they  gained  the  entrance  of  the  choir, 
the  dark  figure  had  come  forth  with  his  hounds,  which  stood 
savagely  growling  beside  him.  They  then  perceived  that 
the  fancied  infernal  being  was  a  monk  with  his  hood  drawn 
closely  over  his  grim  and  ghastly  features. 


228  THE  CONST  ABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Booh  I 

Stretching  out  his  hands  towards  them,  the  monk  ex- 
claimed, in  tones  that  thrilled  his  hearers  with  new  terror, 
"  My  words  have  come  to  pass.  Henry  sold  himself  to  work 
wickedness,  and  I  warned  him  of  his  doom  as  Elijah  the  Tish- 
bite  warned  Ahab.  The  judgment  of  Ahab  hath  come  upon 
him.  On  the  self-same  spot  where  Catherine  Howard  knelt 
before  her  removal  to  the  Tower,  dogs  have  licked  the  wife- 
slayer's  blood — even  his  blood  !" 

Before  the  giants  recovered  sufficiently  from  their  stupefac- 
tion to  make  an  attempt  to  stay  him,  Father  Peto,  with  his 
hounds,  effected  a  retreat  by  a  lateral  door,  through  which  it 
is  to  be  presumed  he  had  entered  the  church. 

Filled  with  consternation,  the  giants  were  debating  what 
ought  to  be  done,  when  the  wicket  of  the  great  western  door 
was  opened,  and  the  Lord  St.  John,  grand  master,  with  three 
tall  yeomen  of  the  guard,  entered  the  church.  The  torn 
hangings  of  the  catafalque  rendered  concealment  impossible, 
even  if  the  giants  had  felt  inclined  to  attempt  it,  but  they  at 
once  acquainted  Lord  St.  John  with  the  mysterious  occur- 
rence. 

While  listening  to  the  strange  recital,  the  grand  master 
looked  exceedingly  angry,  and  the  giants  fully  expected  a 
severe  reprimand  at  the  least,  if  not  punishment,  for  their 
negligence.  To  their  surprise,  however,  the  displeasure  of 
their  auditor  changed  to  gravity,  and  without  making  any  re- 
mark upon  their  relation,  he  proceeded  to  examine  the  con- 
dition of  the  catafalque.  Having  satisfied  himself  of  the 
truth  of  the  extraordinary  statement  he  had  received,  the 
grand  master  gave  orders  for  the  immediate  repair  of  the 
coffin,  the  restoration  of  the  torn  hanging,  and  the  cleansing 
of  the  floor,  charging  the  giants,  on  pain  of  death,  not  to 
breathe  another  word  as  to  the  mysterious  appearance  of 
Father  Peto  and  the  hounds. 

Strict  watch  was  kept  throughout  the  rest  of  the  night,  and 
care  taken  to  prevent  further  intrusion. 


Ch(4>'  XyiW^  SAINT  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  ^29 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


HOW  THE  ROYAL  CORPSE  JVAS  BROUGHT  TO  SAINT 
GEORGE'S  CHAPEL 

Next  morning  the  numerous  occupants  of  the  convent  arose 
betimes,  and  prepared  for  the  journey  to  Windsor.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  persons  composing  the  procession  had  been 
obliged  to  sleep  on  stools  or  benches,  or  on  the  rushes  with 
which  the  floors  were  thickly  strewn.  However,  all  were 
astir  long  before  break  of  day.  In  those  hearty  times,  break- 
fast differed  but  slightly  from  dinner  or  supper,  and  a  very 
substantial  repast,  wound  up  with  spiced  wines  and  cates,  was 
set  before  the  guests  preparatory  to  their  setting  forth. 

Precisely  at  seven  o'clock  the  funeral  procession  started 
from  the  convent  gates  in  the  same  order  as  before,  accom- 
panied by  a  like  number  of  flaming  torches.  The  bells  were 
tolled  in  Isleworth  church  as  the  lugubrious  train  approached 
the  village,  and  priests  and  clerks  came  forth  to  cense  the 
royal  corpse.  Similar  ceremonies  were  observed  in  every 
hamlet  subsequently  passed  through. 

At  length  the  cortege  reached  Eton,  then  as  now  sur- 
rounded by  stately  groves.  Near  the  gates  of  the  noble  col- 
lege, founded  about  a  century  previously  by  the  unfortunate 
Henry  VI. ,  stood  Doctor  Robert  Aldrich,  Bishop  of  Carlisle 
and  Provost  of  Eton,  in  full  pontificals,  attended  by  the  mas- 
ters and  fellows  of  the  church  in  their  vestments  and  copes, 
and  by  the  scholars  of  the  college  in  white  surplices.  The 
latter,  who  were  extremely  numerous,  some  of  them  being  of 
very  tender  years,  were  bareheaded,  and  carried  lighted 
tapers.     As  the  corpse  went  by,  they  knelt  down  and  censed 


23©  THE   COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  I 

it,  chanting  the  De  ProfundiSy  their  young  voices  giving  a 
touching  effect  to  the  solemn  psalm. 

From  the  northern  terrace  of  Windsor  Castle,  the  sombre 
procession,  slowly  making  its  way  from  Eton  to  the  bridge 
across  the  Thames,  presented  a  remarkable  and  deeply  inter- 
esting sight ;  but  few  were  there  to  witness  it.  Most  of  the 
inmates  of  the  Castle  were  engaged  in  preparing  for  the 
arrival  of  their  expected  guests,  and  such  as  were  not  so  occu- 
pied had  repaired  to  the  bridge  across  the  Thames,  at  the  foot 
of  which  were  stationed  the  mayor  of  Windsor,  the  aldermen, 
benchers,  and  burgesses,  and  the  priests  and  clerks  of  the 
church  of  Saint  John  the  Baptist  within  the  town.  From  this 
point  to  the  Horseshoe  Cloisters  within  the  Castle,  the  road 
was  railed  on  either  side,  the  rails  being  hung  with  black 
cloth  to  the  ground,  and  covered  with  escutcheons  of  arms 
and  marriages.  As  at  the  Convent  of  Sion,  though  on  a  far 
more  sumptuous  and  extensive  scale,  preparations  were  made 
at  the  Castle  for  the  numerous  and  important  visitors  and 
their  attendants.  All  the  apartments  assigned  to  the  princi- 
pal nobles  and  ambassadors  were  hung  with  black,  as  were 
Saint  George's  Hall,  and  the  interior  of  the  Garter  Tower. 

The  royal  standard  on  the  keep  was  furled,  and  an  immense 
hatchment  of  black  velvet,  emblazoned  with  the  king's  arms, 
worked  in  gold,  was  placed  on  the  outer  side  of  the  gate  of 
the  lower  ward,  the  battlements  of  which  were  thickly  hung 
with  banners.  Numberless  spectators  thronged  the  barriers 
throughout  their  entire  extent,  and  the  windows  of  all  the 
habitations  in  Thames  Street  were  densely  occupied.  Slowly 
did  the  long  train  make  its  way  to  the  Castle  gate,  and  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  that  the  seven  powerful  horses  could  drag 
the  ponderous  funeral  car  up  the  steep  ascent.  At  last,  how- 
ever, the  feat  was  accomplished ;  the  car  entered  the  broad 
court  of  the  lower  ward,  and  was  brought  in  safety  to  the 
western  door  of  the  chapel  of  Saint  George. 

Meanwhile,  all  the  attendants  upon  the  ceremonial,  por- 


Chap.  XyiW^  SAINT  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  231 

ters,  servants  of  the  royal  household,  harbingers  and  pur- 
suivants, with  a  multitude  of  others,  including  the  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  poor  men  in  mourning  habits,  had  entered  the 
church,  and  stationed  themselves  in  the  nave — a.  wide  passage 
being  left  from  the  western  door  to  the  choir,  to  be  traversed 
by  the  bearers  of  the  coffin.  The  more  important  personages, 
however,  remained  in  the  area  of  the  Horseshoe  Cloisters, 
awaiting  a  summons  to  enter  the  church. 

Fairer  ecclesiastical  fabric  does  not  exist  than  the  collegiate 
chapel  of  Saint  George  at  Windsor ;  and  at  the  period  in 
question  the  goodly  structure  was  seen  at  its  best.  No  dese- 
crating hands  had  then  marred  its  beauty.  Externally,  it  was 
very  striking — the  numerous  crocketed  pinnacles  being  adorned 
with  glittering  vanes  supported  by  gilt  lions,  antelopes,  grey- 
hounds, and  dragons.  The  interior  corresponded  with  the 
outward  show,  and  luckily  the  best  part  has  undergone  little 
mutilation.  Nothing  more  exquisite  can  be  imagined  than 
the  richly  decorated  stone  ceiling,  supported  by  ribs  and 
groins  of  incomparable  beauty — than  the  light  and  graceful 
pillars  of  the  nave — than  the  numerous  chapels  and  chantries 
— or  than  the  matchless  choir.  Within  the  nave  are  em- 
blazoned the  arms  of  Henry  VIII.  and  those  of  his  renowned 
contemporaries  and  survivors,  Charles  V.  and  Francis  I., 
both  of  whom  were  companions  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter. 
At  the  period  of  which  we  treat,  all  the  windows  were 
filled  with  deep- stained  glass,  glowing  with  the  mingled  and 
gorgeous  dyes  of  the  ruby,  the  topaz,  and  the  emerald, 
and  casting  a  "dim  religious  light"  on  the  architectural 
marvels  of  the  fane.  Commenced  in  the  previous  century  by 
Edward  IV.,  continued  and  further  embellished  by  Henry 
VII.,  who  contributed  the  unequalled  roof  of  the  choir,  the 
finishing  stroke  to  the  noble  pile  was  given  by  Henry  VIII., 
traces  of  whom  may  be  found  in  the  heraldic  insignia  decora- 
ting the  splendid  ceiling  of  the  body  of  the  church,  and 
in  other  parts  of  the  structure. 


232  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

In  preparation  for  the  ceremony  about  to  take  place  within 
its  walls,  portions  of  the  body  of  the  church  were  hung  with 
black,  the  central  pavement  of  the  nave  being  spread  with 
black  cloth,  and  the  pillars  of  the  aisles  decorated  with  ban- 
ners and  escutcheons.  The  floor  of  the  choir  was  likewise 
carpeted  with  black,  and  the  pedestals  of  the  elaborately 
carved  stalls  of  the  knights  companions  of  the  Garter,  clothed 
with  sable  velvet.  The  emblazoned  banners  of  the  knights 
still  occupied  their  accustomed  position  on  the  canopies  of 
the  stalls,  but  the  late  sovereign's  splendid  banner  was  re- 
moved, his  stall  put  into  mourning,  and  a  hatchment  set 
in  the  midst  of  it.  The  high  altar  was  hung  with  cloth 
of  gold,  and  gorgeously  ornamented  with  candlesticks,  crosses, 
chalices,  censers,  ships,  and  images  of  gold  and  silver.  Con- 
tiguous to  it  on  the  right  was  another  and  lesser  altar,  covered 
with  black  velvet,  but  destitute  of  ornament. 

In  the  midst  of  the  choir,  surrounded  by  double  barriers, 
stood  a  catafalque,  larger  and  far  more  sumptuous  than  either 
of  those  used  at  the  palace  of  Westminster  or  in  the  con- 
ventual church  of  Sion.  Double-storied,  thirty-five  feet  high, 
having  eight  panes  and  thirteen  principals,  curiously  wrought, 
painted  and  gilded,  this  stately  catafalque  was  garnished  with 
a  rich  majesty  and  a  double-valanced  dome,  around  which 
were  inscribed  the  king's  name  and  title  in  beaten  gold  upon 
silk.  Fringed  with  black  silk  and  gold,  the  whole  frame  was 
covered  with  tapers — a  consumption  of  four  thousand  pounds' 
weight  of  wax  having  been  calculated  upon, — ^and  was  gar- 
nished with  pensils,  scutcheons  of  arms  and  marriages,  hatch- 
ments of  silk  and  gold ;  while  bannerols  of  descents  depended 
from  it  in  goodly  wise.  At  the  foot  of  the  catafalque  was  a 
third  altar  covered  with  black  velvet,  and  decorated  with  rich 
plate  and  jewels. 

Beneath  this  stately  catafalque  lay  the  sepulchre,  into  which 
the  royal  corpse  was  ere  long  to  be  lowered  by  means  of  an 
apparatus  somewhat  resembling  that  now  common  to  our  cem- 


Chap.  XVIW]  SMNT  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  233 

eteries.  In  this  vault  was  already  deposited  the  once  lovely 
Jane  Seymour,  by  whose  side  Henry  had  directed  his  remains 
to  be  laid.  Here  also,  at  a  later  period,  was  placed  the  body 
of  the  martyred  Charles  I. 

By  his  will,  Henry  had  given  particular  directions  that  he 
should  be  interred  in  the  choir  of  Saint  George's  Chapel, 
**  midway  between  the  state  and  the  high  altar,"  enjoining 
his  executors  to  prepare  an  honorable  tomb  for  his  bones  to 
rest  in,  '*  with  a  fair  grate  about  it,  in  which  tomb  we  will 
that  the  bones  and  body  of  our  true  and  loving  wife.  Queen 
Jane,  be  put  also. ' '  Thus  much  of  his  instructions  were  ful- 
filled, but  he  desired  more  than  any  executor  could  achieve. 
*'We  will  and  ordain,"  he  appointed,  '*that  a  convenient 
altar  be  there  honorably  prepared,  and  apparelled  with  all 
manner  of  things  requisite  and  necessary  for  daily  masses, 
there  to  be  said  perpetually,  while  the  world  shall  endure. ' ' 

While  the  world  shall  endure  !  Alas  for  the  vanity  of  hu- 
man designs  !  Who  heeds  that  fiat  now  ?  Who  now  says 
daily  masses  for  Henry's  soul? 

Moreover,  full  instructions  were  left  by  the  king  fgr  the 
erection  of  a  most  magnificent  monument  to  himself  and  his 
third,  and  best-loved  consort,  Jane  Seymour,  within  the 
mausoleum  so  lavishly  embellished  by  Cardinal  Wolsey.  On 
the  white  marble  base  of  this  monument,  which  was  intended 
to  be  nearly  thirty  feet  high,  and  adorned  with  one  hundred 
and  thirty-four  statues  and  forty-four  bas-reliefs,  were  to  be 
placed  two  black  touchstone  tombs,  supporting  recumbent 
figures  of  the  king  and  queen,  not  as  dead  but  sleeping,  while 
their  epitaphs  were  to  be  inscribed  in  gold  letters  beneath. 

Vain  injunction  !  the  splendidly-conceived  monument  was 
not  even  commenced. 

To  resume.  All  being  arranged  within  the  choir,  and  the 
thousand  great  tapers  around  the  catafalque  lighted,  the  effigy 
of  the  king  was  first  brought  in  at  the  western  door  of  the 
church  by  the  three  gigantic  warders,  and  conveyed  by  them 


234  T^E   CONST/fBLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I 

to  the  choir ;  after  which,  the  coffin  was  carried  by  tall  yeo- 
men of  the  guard  down  the  alley  reserved  for  its  passage,  the 
canopy  being  borne  by  six  lords.  The  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
with  other  mitred  prelates  in  their  copes,  marched  before  it 
to  its  receptacle,  wherein  it  was  reverently  deposited.  This 
done,  it  was  covered  with  two  palls,  the  first  being  of  black 
velvet,  with  a  white  satin  cross  upon  it,  and  the  other  of  rich 
cloth  of  tissue.     The  efiigy  was  then  set  upon  the  outer  pall. 

No  sooner  had  the  funeral  car  quitted  its  station  at  the 
western  door  of  the  church  than  the  procession,  which  had 
been  previously  marshalled  in  the  Horseshoe  Cloisters,  began 
to  stream  into  the  sacred  edifice.  After  a  throng  of  knights, 
bannerets,  barons,  viscounts,  earls,  and  ambassadors,  came  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  in  his  full  robes,  and  attended  by 
his  crosses.  After  him  marched  the  mourners,  two  and  two, 
with  their  hoods  over  their  heads,  followed  by  the  chief 
mourner,  who  in  his  turn  was  followed  by  Garter  in  the  king's 
gown,  the  train  of  the  latter  being  borne  by  Sir  Anthony 
Wingfield,  vice-chamberlain.  On  reaching  the  catafalque, 
the  mourners  took  up  their  customary  places  beside  it. 

Meanwhile,  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  on  whom,  as  chief 
prelate,  devolved  the  performance  of  the  sacred  offices,  had 
stationed  himself  at  the  high  altar,  on  either  side  whereon 
stood  the  rest  of  the  bishops.  The  council,  with  the  lord 
protector  at  its  head,  and  immediately  behind  him  the  lord 
chancellor,  now  entered  the  choir,  and  seated  themselves  on 
either  side  of  it,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  occupying  a 
place  nearest  the  high  altar. 

The  four  saints  having  been  set,  one  at  each  corner  of  the 
catafalque,  the  Lord  Talbot,  with  the  embroidered  banner, 
took  a  place  at  his  foot.  Before  him  was  the  standard  of  the 
Lion,  on  the  right,  the  Dragon,  and  on  the  left,  the  Grey- 
hound. A  multitude  of  other  bearers  of  banners  were  grouped 
around  the  receptacle  of  the  coffin. 

At  this  juncture,  a  movement  was  heard  in  the  gallery 


Chap.  Xyill]  SAINT  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  235 

above,  and  the  queen -dowager,  preceded  by  two  gentlemen 
ushers,  entered  the  royal  closet.  Attired  in  black  velvet,  and 
bearing  other  external  symbols  of  woe,  Catherine  looked  some- 
what pale,  but  bore  no  traces  of  deep  affliction  in  her  coun- 
tenance. She  was  attended  by  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset 
and  her  daughter,  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  the  Countess  of  Hert- 
ford, Lady  Herbert,  and  other  ladies  and  gentlewomen,  all  in 
deep  mourning.  Behind  appeared  a  throng  of  ambassadors 
and  other  strangers  of  distinction.  But  neither  the  Princess 
Mary  nor  the  Princess  Elizabeth  was  present.  Moreover,  as 
will  have  been  remarked,  the  youthful  king  took  no  part  in 
the  funeral  ceremony. 

As  the  queen-dowager  sat  down  alone  in  front  of  the 
closet,  all  the  other  ladies  remaining  standing,  Norroy  ad- 
vanced, and  in  his  accustomed  formula  besought  their  charita- 
ble prayers  for  the  repose  of  the  departed  king's  soul.  A 
requiem  was  next  chanted,  and  mass  performed  by  the  Bishop 
of  Winchester  and  the  other  prelates. 

On  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  the  whole  assemblage 
quitted  the  church,  leaving  the  choir  vacant  of  all  save  the 
watchers  by  the  body,  the  number  of  whom  was  greatly  in- 
creased. 

Profuse  as  had  been  the  display  of  hospitality  at  Sion, 
it  was  far  exceeded  at  Windsor.  A  grand  banquet  was  given 
to  the  nobles  and  other  distinguished  personages  in  Saint 
George's  Hall,  the  lord  protector,  with  the  council,  the 
mourners,  and  the  ambassadors,  occupying  seats  on  the  dais. 
Tables  were  likewise  spread  in  the  various  refectories,  at 
which  the  numerous  esquires,  captains  of  the  guard,  heralds, 
pursuivants,  and  others,  sat  down.  The  four  enormous  fire- 
places in  the  great  kitchen  scarcely  sufficed  to  supply  the 
wants  of  so  many  guests.  Our  three  giants  found  their  way 
to  the  larder,  and  were  well  cared  for  by  the  yeomen  and 
grooms.     Prodigious  was  the  quantity  they  consumed. 

Night  had  far  advanced  ere  the  feasting  had  ended.     Even 


236  THE   C0NSTy4BLE  OF  THE  TOPVER  [Book  I 

then  there  were  lingerers  at  some  tables.  Much  bustle,  more- 
over, still  prevailed,  not  only  within  but  without  the  Castle. 
In  the  courts  of  both  upper  and  lower  wards,  yeomen,  ushers, 
grooms,  and  serving-men  of  all  descriptions,  were  continually 
passing  and  repassing. 

The  terraces,  however,  were  deserted,  though  the  extreme 
beauty  of  the  night  might  well  have  tempted  some  of  the 
many  guests  to  enjoy  a  moonlight  walk  upon  them.  Towards 
midnight,  a  postern  door  in  one  of  the  towers  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Castle  opened,  and  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  and  his 
esquire  issued  from  it.  Both  were  wrapped  in  black  velvet 
mantles  furred  with  sable.  They  proceeded  quickly  towards 
the  eastern  terrace,  without  pausing  to  gaze  at  the  glorious 
prospect  of  wood  and  glade  that  lay  stretched  out  beneath 
them,  and,  having  made  the  half  circuit  of  the  walls,  reached 
the  northern  terrace,  which  was  thrown  into  deep  shade,  the 
moon  being  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  heavens.  Far  out 
into  the  meads  below  was  projected  the  irregular  shadow  of 
the  mighty  pile,  but  the  silver  Thames  glittered  in  the  moon- 
light, and  the  collegiate  church  of  Eton  slumbered  peacefully 
amidst  its  groves.  A  holy  calm  seemed  to  rest  upon  the 
scene,  but  Seymour  refused  to  yield  to  its  influence.  He  had 
other  matter  in  hand,  which  agitated  his  soul.  Roused  by 
the  bell  striking  midnight,  he  passed,  with  his  esquire,  through 
an  archway  communicating  with  the  lower  ward,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Saint  George's  Chapel.  Making  for  the  lateral 
door  on  the  left  of  the  Bray  Chapel,  he  found  several  yeomen 
of  the  guard  stationed  at  it,  together  with  two  gentlemen 
ushers  belonging  to  the  queen -dowager's  suite.  On  behold- 
ing the  latter,  his  heart  leaped  with  joy.  He  knew  that  Cath- 
erine was  within  the  church,  and  he  at  once  entered  it  with 
his  esquire.  The  aisles  and  nave  were  plunged  in  gloom,  and 
looked  all  the  more  sombre  from  the  contrast  they  offered  to  the 
choir,  which  was  brilliantly  illumined.  The  watchers  were 
stationed  around  the    catafalque;    chaplains  were   standing 


Chap.  XVIW^  SAINT  GEORGE'S  CHAPEL  237 

at  the  high  altar ;  and  a  dirge  was  being  sung  by  the  choris- 
ters. Halting  near  a  pillar  in  the  south  aisle,  Seymour 
despatched  Ugo  to  the  choir.  After  a  short  absence  the 
esquire  returned,  and  said,  '*The  queen  is  there — ^kneeling 
at  the  altar  beside  the  coffin. ' ' 

**I  will  await  her  coming  forth.  Retire,  until  I  summon 
thee." 

Full  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed  ere  Seymour's  vigilance 
was  rewarded.  At  the  end  of  that  time  Catherine  issued 
from  the  choir.  As  Sir  Thomas  expected,  she  was  wholly  un- 
attended, and  was  proceeding  slowly  towards  the  door  near 
the  Bray  Chapel,  when  Seymour  stepped  from  behind  the 
pillar,  and  placed  himself  in  her  path. 

'*  Pardon  me,  Catherine  !  pardon  me,  queen  of  my  heart !" 
he  cried,  half  prostrating  himself  before  her. 

Much  startled,  she  would  have  retired,  but  he  seized  her 
hand  and  detained  her. 

**  You  must — you  shall  hear  me,  Catherine,"  he  cried. 

"Be  brief  then,"  she  rejoined,  **and  release  my  hand." 

**  I  know  I  do  not  deserve  forgiveness,"  he  cried,  "but  I 
know,  also,  that  your  nature  is  charitable,  and  therefore  I 
venture  to  hope.  Oh  !  Catherine,  I  have  recovered  from  the 
J5:enzy  into  which  I  had  fallen,  and  bitterly  repent  my  folly. 
You  have  resumed  entire  empire  over  my  heart,  and  never 
again  can  be  dethroned. ' ' 

"I  do  not  desire  to  reign  over  a  heart  so  treacherous," 
rejoined  Catherine,  severely.  "You  plead  in  vain,  Seymour. 
Perfidy  like  yours  cannot  be  pardoned." 

"  Say  not  so,  fair  queen,"  he  cried,  passionately.  "  Doom 
me  not  to  utter  despair.  Show  me  how  to  repair  my  fault, 
and  I  will  do  it.     But  condemn  me  not  to  worse  than  death. ' ' 

"  Having  proved  you  false  and  forsworn,  how  am  I  to 
believe  what  you  now  utter?  Can  I  doubt  the  evidence 
of  my  own  senses  ?     Can  I  forget  what  I  overheard  ? ' ' 

"But  I  am  cured  of  my  madness,  I  declare  to  you,  Cath- 


238  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Booh  I 

erine.  My  fault  shall  be  atoned  by  years  of  devotion.  I 
will  submit  to  any  punishment  you  choose  to  inflict  upon  me 
— so  that  a  hope  of  ultimate  forgiveness  be  held  out. '  * 

** Would  I  could  believe  you!"  sighed  the  queen.  "But 
no  ! — no  ! — it  must  not  be.     I  will  not  again  be  deceived." 

*'0n  my  soul  I  do  not  deceive  you!"  he  cried,  pressing 
her  hand  to  his  lips.  *'  Grant  me  but  another  trial,  and  if  I 
swerve  from  my  present  professions  of  unalterable  attachment, 
cast  me  off  for  ever. ' ' 

There  was  a  slight  pause ;  after  which  Catherine  said,  in  a 
relenting  tone,  * '  I  must  have  time  for  reflection. '  * 

''  Till  when  ?  "   he  cried,  imploringly. 

"I  cannot  say.  Not  till  the  tomb  has  closed  over  Henry 
will  I  speak  more  on  this  subject.  I  give  you  good  night,  Sir 
Thomas. ' ' 

"Good  night,  fair  queen.  Heaven  grant  your  decision 
prove  favorable  !"  exclaimed  Seymour,  as  she  departed. 

And  as  his  esquire  cautiously  approached  him,  he  said, 
exultingly,  "Vittoria!  Ugo,  d  fatto !" 


CHAPTER  XIX 

PULVIS  PULVERl  CINIS  CINERl 

At  six  o'clock  next  morn,  all  the  knights  companions  of 
the  Garter  attendant  upon  the  funeral  repaired  to  the  revestry 
of  Saint  George's  Chapel.  The  assemblage  comprised  the 
Lord  Protector,  Lord  Chancellor  Wriothesley,  the  Earls  of 
Essex,  Arundel,  Shrewsbury,  and  Sussex,  the  Lords  Saint 
John,  Lisle,  Abergavenny,  and  Russell,  with  Sir  John  Gage, 
Sir  Anthony  Brown,  Sir  Anthony  Wingfield,  Sir  Anthony  St. 
Leger,  and  Sir  Thomas  Cheney.     Having  arrayed  themselves 


Chap.  XIX'\        PULVIS  PULVERI,  CINIS  CINERI  239 

in  the  rich  sky-blue  mantles  of  the  order,  and  put  on  their 
hoods,  they  proceeded  to  the  choir  to  hear  matins,  and  make 
their  oblations. 

The  service  was  performed  by  the  Dean  of  Windsor,  Doctor 
Franklin,  and  the  canons.  At  its  conclusion,  after  divesting 
themselves  of  the  habits  of  their  order,  the  knights  adjourned 
to  the  deanery,  where  a  goodly  breakfast  had  been  provided 
them  by  the  portly  dean.  During  this  repast  some  conversa- 
tion took  place  between  Doctor  Franklin  and  the  lord  pro- 
tector touching  a  bequest  by  the  late  king  of  certain  manors 
and  lands  to  the  dean  and  canons  to  the  value  of  six  hundred 
pounds  a  year — a  considerable  sum  in  those  days — and  the 
dean  respectfully  inquired  whether  he  had  been  rightly  in- 
formed as  to  the  amount. 

'  'Ay,  forsooth,  good  master  dean, ' '  replied  the  protector. 
*'His  late  majesty — whose  soul  may  Jesu  pardon  ! — hath  by 
his  will  left  you  and  your  successors  lands,  spiritual  endow- 
ments, and  promotions  of  the  yearly  value  you  mention,  but 
on  certain  conditions." 

* '  What  may  be  the  conditions,  I  pray  your  Highness  ?  ' ' 
asked  the  dean.      *'  I  have  not  heard  them." 

''They  are  these,"  rejoined  the  protector.  "That  you 
find  two  priests  to  say  masses  at  an  altar  to  be  erected  before 
his  majesty's  tomb  ;  that  you  hold  four  solemn  obits  annually 
for  the  repose  of  his  soul  within  the  chapel ;  that  at  every 
obit,  ye  bestow  ten  pounds  in  alms  to  the  poor;  that  ye 
give  twelve  pence  a  day  to  thirteen  indigent  but  deserving 
persons,  who  shall  be  styled  Poor  Knights,  together  with  gar- 
ments specified  by  the  will,  and  an  additional  payment  to  the 
governor  of  such  poor  knights.  Other  obligations  there  are 
in  the  way  of  sermons  and  prayers,  but  these  I  pretermit. ' ' 

"His  majesty's  intentions  shall  be  religiously  fulfilled," 
observed  the  dean,  "and  I  thank  your  Highness  for  the  in- 
formation you  have  so  graciously  afforded  me. '  * 

As  Henry's  tomb,  however,  was  never  erected,  as  we  have 


240  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  I 

already  mentioned,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  rest  of  his 
testamentary  instructions  were  scrupulously  executed. 

While  the  Knights  of  the  Garter  were  breakfasting  at  the 
deatiery,  feasting  had  recommenced  in  the  various  halls  and 
refectories  of  the  Castle.  Our  giants  again  found  their  way 
to  the  larder,  and  broke  their  fast  with  collops,  rashers,  car- 
bonados, a  shield  of  brawn  and  mustard,  and  a  noble  sirloin 
of  beef,  making  sad  havoc  with  the  latter,  and  washing  down 
the  viands  with  copious  draughts  of  humming  ale. 

However,  the  bell  began  to  toll,  and  at  the  summons  each 
person  concerned  in  the  ceremony  hied  to  Saint  George's 
Chapel.  Ere  long  all  were  in  their  places.  Around  the 
illumined  catafalque  within  the  choir  were  congregated  the 
mourners  in  their  gowns.  The  council,  with  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  at  their  head,  were  seated  in  the  stalls.  The 
Bishop  of  Winchester,  in  his  full  pontificals,  with  the  other 
prelates,  was  at  the  high  altar.  The  queen-dowager  was  in 
her  closet,  with  her  ladies  ranged  behind  her.  No  one  was 
absent. 

Thereupon  mass  was  commenced,  at  which  the  bishops 
officiated.  At  the  close  of  the  requiem,  the  Marquis  of  Dor- 
set advanced  to  the  altar,  and,  with  much  humility  and  rev- 
erence, offered  a  piece  of  gold  as  the  mass-penny  ;  after  which 
he  returned  to  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  corpse.  The 
king's  embroidered  coat  of  arms  was  next  delivered  by 
Garter  to  the  Earls  of  Arundel  and  Oxford,  by  whom  it  was 
reverently  offered  to  the  Bishop  of  Winchester ;  which  cere- 
mony being  performed,  the  coat  was  placed  by  Garter  on  the 
lesser  altar.  The  royal  target  was  next  consigned  to  the  Earls 
of  Derby  and  Shrewsbury,  offered  by  them  to  the  bishop,  and 
placed  beside  the  coat  by  the  herald.  Norroy  then  presented 
the  king's  sword  to  the  Earls  of  Sussex  and  Rutland,  which 
was  offered  and  laid  upon  the  altar.  Carlisle  gave  the  helm 
and  crest  to  the  same  nobleman  who  had  carried  the  target,  and 
these  equipments  were  offered  and  placed  beside  the  others. 


Chap.  XIX]        PULVIS  PULVERl,  CINIS  CINERI  241 

Then  occurred  the  most  striking  part  of  the  ceremonial. 
Some  commotion  was  heard  in  the  nave,  and  those  within  the 
choir,  who  could  command  this  part  of  the  church,  which  was 
thronged  with  various  officials,  beheld  a  knightly  figure,  in 
complete  steel,  except  the  head-piece,  and  mounted  on  a 
black,  richly-barbed  war-horse,  enter  the  open  western  door, 
and  ride  slowly  along  the  alley  preserved  by  the  assemblage. 
Flaming  torches  were  borne  by  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  by- 
standers on  either  side,  and  their  light,  gleaming  on  the 
harness  of  the  knightly  figure  and  the  caparisons  of  his  steed, 
added  materially  to  the  effect  of  the  spectacle.  The  rider 
was  Chidiock  Pawlet,  King  Henry's  man-at-arms,  a  very  stal- 
wart personage,  with  handsome  burly  features  clothed  with  a 
brown,  bushy  beard.  In  his  hand  he  carried  a  pole-axe,  with 
the  head  downwards.  As  Pawlet  reached  the  door  of  the 
choir,  and  drew  up  beneath  the  arch,  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
him.  It  was  strange,  almost  appalling,  to  behold  an  eques- 
trian figure  in  such  a  place,  and  on  such  an  occasion.  For  a 
brief  space,  Pawlet  remained  motionless  as  a  statue,  but  his 
horse  snorted  and  pawed  the  ground.  Then  Lord  Morley 
and  Lord  Dacre  advanced,  and  aided  him  to  alight.  Con- 
signing his  steed  to  a  henchman,  by  whom  it  was  removed, 
Pawlet  next  proceeded  with  the  two  lords  to  the  altar^  and 
offered  the  pole-axe  to  the  bishop,  with  the  head  downwards. 
Gardiner  took  the  weapon,  turned  the  point  upwards,  and 
delivered  the  pole-axe  to  an  officer  of  arms,  who  laid  it  on  the 
altar. 

Then  Richard  Pawlet,  brother  to  Chidiock,  with  four  gen- 
tlemen ushers,  brought  in  each  a  pall  of  cloth  of  gold  of 
bawdkin,  which  they  delivered  to  Garter  and  Clarencieux,  by 
whom  these  palls  were  placed  at  the  foot  of  the  king's 
effigy. 

Hereupon,  the  emperor's  ambassador,  with  the  ambassa- 
dors of  France,  Scotland,  and  Venice,  were  conducted  by  the 
gentlemen  ushers  to  the  altar,  to  make  their  offering.     Then 
16 


242  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  l 

the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  lord  protector,  the  lord 
chancellor,  and  the  rest  of  the  council  offered.  Lastly,  Sir 
Thomas  Cheney,  treasurer,  and  Sir  John  Gage  offered. 

After  all  the  offerings  had  been  made,  a  pulpit  was  set 
directly  before  the  high  altar,  and  the  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
mounting  it,  commenced  a  sermon,  taking  this  text  from  the 
Revelations  :  '*/«  diebus  Hits,  audivi  vocem  de  ccelo,  di cent  em 
mihi,  Scribe,  Beati  mortui  qui  in  Domino  moriuntur.  A  modo 
jam  dicit  Spiritus,  ut  requiescant  d  laboribus  suis.  Opera  enim 
illorum  sequuntur  illos. ' ' 

A  fervid  and  fluent  preacher,  Gardiner  deeply  moved  his 
auditors  by  his  discourse,  which  was  as  remarkable  for  learn- 
ing as  for  eloquence.  At  the  close  of  the  sermon  the  mass 
proceeded,  and  as  the  words  '^Verbum  c  arc  factum  est^^  were 
pronounced.  Lord  Windsor  offered  the  standard  of  the  Lion ; 
Lord  Talbot  the  standard  of  the  embroidered  banner ;  and  the 
rest  of  the  standards  and  banners  were  offered  in  their  turn. 

After  this,  the  Dean  of  Windsor  and  the  canons  took  the 
palls  which  had  been  placed  at  the  feet  of  the  king's  effigy,  and 
conveyed  them  to  the  revestry.  The  image  itself  was  next 
removed  by  the  three  gigantic  warders,  and  carried  to  the 
same  place. 

The  solemn  moment  had  now  arrived.  Gardiner  and  the 
other  officiating  prelates  descended  from  the  high  altar  to  the 
catafalque,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  took  up  a 
station  a  little  behind  them  with  his  crosses.  The  whole 
choir  burst  forth  with  the  * ' Circumdederunt  me,'''  the  bishops 
meanwhile  continuing  to  cense  the  corpse. 

Ere  the  solemn  strains  had  ceased,  the  mouth  of  the  vault 
opened,  and  the  coffin  slowly  descended  into  the  sepulchre. 

Thus  vanished  from  the  sight  of  men  all  that  was  left  of 
a  great  monarch. 

Amid  the  profound  silence  .that  ensued,  Gardiner  advanced 
to  the  mouth  of  the  vault.  He  was  followed  by  all  the  chief 
officers  of  the  household — namely,  the  lord  great  master,  the 


Chap.  XIX'\        PULVIS  PULVERI,  CINIS  CINERI  243 

lord  chamberlain  of  the  household,  the  treasurer,  comptroller, 
gentleman  porter,  and  the  four  gentlemen  ushers.  These 
personages  carried  their  staves  and  rods,  and  ranged  them- 
selves around  the  aperture. 

Earth  being  brought  to  the  bishop,  he  cast  it  into  the 
sepulchre,  and  when  he  had  pronounced  the  words  *^  Pulvis 
pulveriy  cinis  cineri^ ' '  Lord  Saint  John  broke  his  staff  over  his 
head,  exclaiming  dolefully,  as  he  threw  the  pieces  into  the 
vault,  "Farewell  to  the  greatest  of  kings  !" 

The  Earl  of  Arundel  next  broke  his  staff,  crying  out  with  a 
lamentable  voice,  '  *  Farewell  to  the  wisest  and  justest  prince 
in  Christendom,  who  had  ever  England's  honor  at  heart !" 

Sir  John  Gage  next  shivered  his  staff,  exclaiming  in  ac- 
cents of  unaffected  grief,  *  *  Farewell  to  the  best  of  masters, 
albeit  the  sternest ! '  * 

Like  sorrowful  exclamations  were  uttered  by  William 
Knevet,  the  gentleman  porter,  and  the  gentlemen  ushers, 
as  they  broke  their  rods. 

There  was  something  inexpressibly  affecting  in  the  de- 
struction of  these  symbols  of  office,  and  the  casting  the  frag- 
ments into  the  pit.  Profound  silence  prevailed  during  the 
ceremony,  but  at  its  close  a  universal  sigh  broke  from  the 
assemblage. 

At  this  moment.  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  who  was  standing  in 
a  part  of  the  choir  commanding  the  queen's  closet,  looked  up. 
Catherine  had  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  and 
was  evidently  weeping. 

De  profundis  was  then  solemnly  chanted,  amidst  which  the 
chasm  was  closed. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  hymn.  Garter,  attended  by  Claren- 
cieux,  Carlisle,  and  Norroy,  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the 
choir,  and  with  a  loud  voice  proclaimed,  '^Almighty  God,  of 
His  infinite  goodness,  give  good  life  and  long  to  the  most 
high  and  mighty  prince,  our  sovereign  lord,  Edward  VI.,  by 
the  grace  of  God  King  of  England,  France,  and  Ireland, 


244  7'//£  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Booh  I 

Defender  of  the  Faith,  and  in  earth,  under  God,  of  the 
Church  of  England  and  Ireland,  the  Supreme  Head  and  Sov- 
ereign, of  the  most  noble  Order  of  the  Garter. ' ' 

This  proclamation  made,  he  shouted  lustily,  '*Vive  le 
noble  roi  Edouard!"  All  the  assemblage  joined  in  the 
shout,  which  was  thrice  repeated. 

Then  the  trumpeters  stationed  in  the  rood-loft  blew  a  loud 
and  courageous  blast,  which  resounded  through  the  pile. 

So  ended  the  obsequies  of  the  right  high  and  puissant  king 
Henry  VIII. 


Thus  far  the  First  book 


BOOK  II 

THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL  OF  ENGLAND 


CHAPTER  I 


HOW  EDWARD  PASSED  HIS  TIME  WHILE  LEFT  TO  HIMSELF 
WITHIN  THE  TOWER 

The  three  days  devoted  to  the  solemnization  of  Henry's 
obsequies  were  passed  by  his  son  in  strictest  privacy  at  the 
Tower.  The  freedom  from  restraint  afforded  the  youthful 
monarch  by  the  absence  of  his  court  was  especially  agreeable 
to  him  at  this  juncture.  Not  only  had  he  to  mourn  for  his 
father,  but  to  prepare,  as  he  desired  to  do  by  meditation  and 
prayer,  for  the  solemn  ceremony  in  which  he  himself  would 
soon  be  called  upon  to  play  the  principal  part. 

The  near  approach  of  his  coronation,  which  was  fixed  for 
the  Sunday  after  the  funeral,  filled  him  with  anxious  thought. 
It  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  one  so  young  as  Edward 
would  be  dazzled  by  the  magnificence  of  the  show,  and  lose 
sight  of  its  real  import ;  but  such  was  not  the  case  with  the 
devout  and  serious-minded  prince,  who,  as  we  have  already 
shown,  possessed  a  gravity  of  character  far  beyond  his  years, 
and  had  been  too  well  instructed  not  to  be  fully  aware  of  the 
nature  of  the  solemn  promises  he  would  have  to  make  to  his 
people  while  assuming  the  crown. 

Daily  did  he  petition  Heaven  that  he  might  adequately 
discharge  his  high  and  important  duties,  and  in  no  wise  abuse 
the  power  committed  to  him,  but  might  exercise  it  wisely  and 
beneficently,  to  the  maintenance  and  extension  of  true  reli- 
gion, and  to  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  his  subjects.  Above 
all,  he  prayed  that  he  might  be  made  the  instrument  of  estab- 
lishing the  Protestant  Church  on  a  secure  foundation ;  of 
delivering  it  entirely  from  its  enemies ;  and  purifying  it  from 
the  idolatries  and  superstitious  practices  that  still  clung  to  it. 

247 


248  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  It 

The  bustle  and  confusion  lately  prevailing  within  the 
Tower  had  now  ceased.  All  the  nobles  and  important  per- 
sonages who  had  flocked  thither  to  do  homage  to  the  young 
king,  had  departed,  taking  with  them  their  troops  of  attend- 
ants. The  courts  were  emptied  of  the  crowd  of  esquires  and 
pages  who  had  recently  thronged  them.  No  merry  hubbub 
was  heard ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  general  gloom  pervaded 
the  place. 

Orders  had  been  given  by  the  king  that  the  three  days  of 
his  father's  funeral  were  to  be  observed  as  a  period  of  deep 
mourning,  and  consequently  every  countenance  wore  an  ex- 
pression of  grief — whether  simulated  or  not,  it  is  needless  to 
inquire.  Edward  and  all  his  household  were  habited  in 
weeds  of  woe,  and  their  sable  attire  and  sad  looks  contributed 
to  the  sombre  appearance  of  the  place.  Ushers  and  hench- 
men moved  about  like  ghosts.  Festivity  there  was  none,  or 
if  there  were,  it  was  discreetly  kept  out  of  the  king's  sight. 
Edward's  time  was  almost  entirely  passed  in  devotional  exer- 
cises. He  prayed  in  secret,  listened  to  long  homilies  from 
his  chaplain,  discoursed  on  religious  matters  with  his  tutors, 
and  regularly  attended  the  services  performed  for  the  repose 
of  his  father's  soul  within  Saint  John's  Chapel. 

Built  in  the  very  heart  of  the  White  Tower,  and  accounted 
one  of  the  most  perfect  specimens  of  Norman  architecture 
extant,  the  beautiful  chapel  dedicated  to  Saint  John  the  Evan- 
gelist might  still  be  beheld  in  all  its  pristine  perfection,  were 
it  not  so  encumbered  by  presses  and  other  receptacles  of 
state  records,  that  even  partial  examination  of  its  architectural 
beauties  is  almost  out  of  the  question. 

Consisting  of  a  nave  with  a  semicircular  termination  at  the 
east,  and  two  narrow  side  aisles,  separated  from  the  body  of 
the  fabric  by  twelve  circular  pillars  of  massive  proportion, 
this  ancient  shrine  also  possesses  a  gallery  reared  above  the 
aisles,  with  wide  semicircular-headed  openings,  looking  into 
the  nave.      The  ceiling  is  coved,  and  the  whole  building  is 


Chap.  /]  EDIVARD^S  OCCUPATIOJ^S  249 

remarkable  for  extreme  solidity  and  simplicity.  It  has  long 
since  been  despoiled  of  its  sacred  ornaments,  and  applied 
to  baser  uses,  but  as  most  of  our  early  monarchs  performed 
their  devotions  within  it  while  sojourning  at  the  Tower, 
that  circumstance  alone,  which  confers  upon  it  a  strong 
historical  interest,  ought  to  save  it  from  neglect  and  dese- 
cration. 

During  the  three  days  in  question,  masses  were  constantly 
said  within  the  chapel.  The  pillars  were  covered  with  black 
cloth,  and  decked  with  pensils  and  escutcheons,  while  ban- 
ners were  hung  from  the  arched  openings  of  the  gallery.  Tall 
tapers  burned  before  the  altar,  which  was  richly  adorned  with 
jewels,  images,  crucifixes,  and  sacred  vessels. 

Edward  never  failed  to  attend  these  services,  and  was 
always  accompanied  by  his  tutors,  to  whom,  as  zealous  Re- 
formers, many  of  the  rites  then  performed  appeared  highly 
objectionable.  But  as  masses  for  the  repose  of  his  soul  had 
been  expressly  enjoined  by  the  late  king's  will,  nothing  could 
be  urged  against  them  at  this  moment,  and  the  two  preceptors 
were  obliged  to  content  themselves  with  silent  disapproval. 
Though  sharing  their  feelings,  reverence  for  his  father's 
memory  kept  Edward  likewise  silent.  Some  observations, 
however,  which  he  chanced  to  make  while  returning  from 
mass  on  the  third  day,  gave  an  opportunity  to  Sir  John  Cheke 
of  condemning  the  practice  of  image-worship  which  was  still 
tolerated. 

'*  Those  Romish  idols  are  an  abomination  in  my  sight," 
he  cried,  ^'and  I  hope  to  see  our  temples  cleared  of  them, 
and  of  all  pictures  that  have  been  abused  by  heathenish  wor- 
ship. The  good  work  has  begun,  for  I  have  heard  this  very 
day  that  the  curate  of  Saint  Martin's,  in  Ironmonger  Lane,  has 
caused  all  the  images  and  pictures  to  be  removed  from  his 
church,  and  texts  from  Scripture  to  be  painted  on  the  walls. 
Peradventure,  the  man  may  be  over-zealous,  yet  I  can  scarce 
blame  him." 


250  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  {Book  II 

*'He  has  but  anticipated  my  own  intentions,"  observed 
Edward;  ''our  temples  shall  no  longer  be  profaned  by  false 
worship." 

''Right  glad  am  I  to  hear  your  Majesty  say  so,"  rejoined 
Cheke.  "  Under  your  gracious  rule,  I  trust,  the  Romish  mis- 
sals and  mass-books  will  be  entirely  abolished,  and  a  liturgy 
in  the  pure  language  of  Scripture  substituted.  Uniformity 
of  doctrine  and  worship,  uniformity  of  habits  and  ceremonies, 
abandonment  of  the  superstitious  and  idolatrous  rites  of 
Rome,  and  a  return  to  the  practices  of  the  Primitive  Christian 
Church — these  are  what  we  of  the  Reformed  Church  seek  for 
— these  are  what,  under  a  truly  Protestant  king  like  your 
Majesty,  we  are  sure  to  obtain. ' ' 

"  Fully  to  extirpate  the  pernicious  doctrines  of  Rome, 
conformity  among  the  clergy  must  be  made  compulsory," 
observed  Cox ;  "  otherwise,  there  will  always  be  danger  to  the 
well-doing  of  the  Protestant  Church.  I  do  not  desire  to 
recommend  severe  measures  to  your  Majesty,  but  coercion 
must  be  applied. ' ' 

"I  hope  it  will  not  be  needed,  good  doctor,"  observed 
Edward.  "  I  desire  not  to  commence  my  reign  with  perse- 
cution." 

"Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  counsel  it,  sire!"  replied 
the  doctor.  "  Far  rather  would  I  that  your  reign  should  be 
distinguished  for  too  much  clemency  than  severity;  but  a 
grand  object  has  to  be  attained,  and  we  must  look  to  the  end 
rather  than  to  the  means.  Strong  efforts,  no  doubt,  will  be 
made  by  the  Bishop  of  Rome  to  regain  his  ascendancy,  and 
the  adherents  of  the  old  doctrine,  encouraged  by  the  removal 
of  the  powerful  hand  that  has  hitherto  controlled  them,  will 
strive  to  recover  what  they  have  lost.  Hence  there  is  much 
danger  to  the  Protestant  Church,  of  which  your  Majesty  is 
the  supreme  head,  and  this  can  only  be  obviated  by  the  com- 
plete repression  of  the  Popish  party.  Much  further  reform 
is  needed,  and  this,  to  be  thoroughly  efficacious,  ought  to  be 


Chap.  /]  EDIVARD'S  OCCUPATIONS  251 

proceeded  with  without  delay,  ere  the  adverse  sect  can  have 
time  to  recruit  its  forces. ' ' 

'<But  you  do  not  apprehend  danger  to  the  Church,  good 
doctor  ? ' '  inquired  Edward,  with  some  anxiety. 

** There  is  danger  in  delay,"  replied  Cox.  *'  Men's  minds 
are  unsettled,  and  advantage  will  certainly  be  taken  of  the 
present  crisis  to  turn  aside  the  ignorant  and  half-instructed 
from  the  truth.  His  Grace  of  Canterbury,  I  am  aware,  is  for 
gradual  reform,  entertaining  the  belief  that  men  must  become 
accustomed  to  the  new  doctrines  ere  they  will  sincerely  em- 
brace them.  Such  is  not  my  opinion.  I  would  uproot  error  and 
schism  as  I  would  weeds  and  noxious  plants  from  a  fair 
garden,  and  burn  them,  so  that  they  may  do  no  further 
harm." 

**  Yet,  perchance,  his  Grace  of  Canterbury  may  be  right," 
observed  Edward,  thoughtfully.  **  I  would  show  no  indul- 
gence to  the  adherents  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  my  object 
being  to  reclaim  them,  and  bring  them  over  to  the  true  faith, 
I  must  consider  by  what  means  that  most  desirable  object  can 
best  be  accomplished. ' ' 

*'  Gentle  means  will  fail,  sire,  and  for  a  reason  which  I  will 
explain,"  rejoined  Sir  John  Cheke.  **  In  dealing  with  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  you  have  to  do  with  a  powerful  and  un- 
scrupulous enemy,  who  will  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  any 
apparent  irresolution  on  your  part.  Moderation  will  be  con- 
strued into  timidity,  conciliation  into  yielding  and  weakness. 
Prompt  and  energetic  measures  must  therefore  be  adopted. 
A  blow  must  be  struck  at  Popery  from  which  it  will  never  re- 
cover. I  applaud  the  design  which  I  know  you  entertain  of 
inviting  the  most  eminent  foreign  Reformers  to  your  court. 
Pious  and  learned  men  like  Peter  Martyr,  Martin  Bucer,  Paul 
Fagius,  Ochinus,  and  Bemardus,  whose  lives  have  been  devo- 
ted to  the  glorious  work  of  religious  reform,  would  be  of  in- 
calculable advantage  to  you  at  this  moment.  Not  only  would 
they  aid  you  in  removing  the  errors  and  abuses  of  the  Church, 


252  THE   COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  II 

but  they  would  justify  and  defend  the  measures  you  design  to 
adopt.  Moreover,  they  would  be  of  signal  service  at  the 
universities,  at  which  seats  of  learning  men  of  great  contro- 
versional  power,  able  to  refute  the  caviller,  to  convince  the 
doubter,  and  to  instruct  the  neophyte,  are  much  wanted. ' ' 

"Sir  John  says  well,"  observed  Doctor  Cox.  **  Confer- 
ences and  disputations  on  religious  subjects  are  requisite  now, 
in  order  to  refute  error  and  convince  men's  understanding. 
Nowhere  can  such  discussions  be  more  advantageously  held 
than  at  your  Majesty's  universities  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge." 

**  Our  cause  is  so  good,  that  it  should  need  neither  justifi- 
cation nor  defence,"  rejoined  Edward.  *'  Nevertheless,  at  a 
season  of  difficulty  and  danger  no  precautions  ought  to  be 
neglected.  To  secure  the  permanent  establishment  of  the 
Protestant  Church,  all  its  ablest  and  stoutest  supporters 
must  be  rallied  round  it.  Pre-eminent  amongst  these  are  the 
wise  and  good  men  you  have  mentioned,  whose  lives  give  an 
assurance  of  the  sincerity  of  their  opinions.  The  Protestant 
leaders  are  much  harassed  in  Germany,  as  I  hear,  and  they 
may,  therefore,  be  glad  of  an  asylum  here.  It  will  rejoice 
me  to  see  them,  to  profit  by  their  teaching,  and  to  be  guided 
by  their  judgment  and  counsels.  His  Grace  of  Canterbury 
shall  invite  them  to  England,  and  if  they  come,  they  shall 
have  a  reception  which  shall  prove  the  esteem  in  which  they 
are  held.  Peter  Martyr  would  fill  a  theological  chair  as  well 
at  Oxford  as  at  Strasburg,  and  I  will  find  fitting  posts  for 
Bucer  and  the  others. ' ' 

At  this  point  the  conversation  dropped.  Seeing  the  king 
disinclined  for  fiirther  discussion,  his  preceptors  did  not  press 
the  subject,  and  he  soon  afterwards  retired  to  his  own 
chamber. 


Chap,  in  ELIZABETH'S  LOP^E  NOT  DE/iD  253 


CHAPTER  II 

FROM  WHICH  IT  WILL  BE  SEEN  THAT  THE  PRINCESS  ELIZA- 
BETH WAS  NOT  ENTIRELY  CURED  OF  HER  PASSION 

Like  her  royal  brother,  the  Princess  Elizabeth  had  been  an 
inmate  of  the  Tower  during  the  time  of  her  august  father's 
funeral,  but  as  she  kept  her  chamber,  owing  to  indisposition, 
as  it  was  alleged,  Edward  saw  nothing  of  her  until  on  the 
evening  of  the  third  day,  when  she  sent  to  beg  him  to  come 
to  her. 

The  amiable  young  monarch  at  once  complied  with  the  re- 
quest. On  his  arrival  at  his  sister's  apartments,  he  found 
Mistress  Ashley  with  her,  but  on  seeing  him  the  governess 
withdrew.  The  young  pair  were  then  alone  together,  for 
Edward  had  left  his  own  attendants  in  the  waiting-chamber. 
Elizabeth  looked  ill,  and  had  evidently  been  weeping.  Much 
distressed  by  her  appearance,  Ekiward  flew  to  her,  embraced 
her  tenderly,  and  inquired,  with  great  solicitude,  what  ailed 
her? 

**  I  do  not  think  the  air  of  the  Tower  agrees  with  me,"  she 
replied,  with  a  faint  smile.  ''I  have  never  been  well  since 
I  came  here.  I  would  pray  your  Majesty's  permission  to  de- 
part to-morrow  for  Hatfield." 

''  I  shall  be  sorry  to  lose  you,  dear  Bess,"  replied  the  king, 
affectionately ;  ' '  but,  in  good  sooth,  you  do  not  look  well, 
and  if  you  think  change  of  air  will  be  of  service  to  you,  e'en 
try  it.  I  hoped  you  would  accompany  me  to  Whitehall,  in 
order  to  attend  my  coronation.  I  promise  you  it  will  be  a 
goodly  show." 

'*I  do  not  doubt  it,"  she  rejoined.  ''But  I  am  not  in 
spirits  for  grand  solemnities  at  present,  and  quite  shrink  from 


254  T'/ZE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  U 

them.  Therefore,  with  your  Majesty's  leave,  I  will  be  gone 
to-morrow.  Most  of  the  court,  they  tell  me,  will  return  from 
Windsor  to-night,  and,  as  I  care  not  to  mingle  with  them 
again,  I  will  depart  betimes. ' ' 

"Be  it  as  you  please,  dear  Bess.  I  will  not  force  you  to 
do  aught  against  your  inclinations,  even  though  I  myself 
shall  be  the  loser.  Depart  at  any  hour  you  please.  A  fitting 
escort  shall  attend  you.  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  with  the  rest 
of  the  court,  will  be  back  from  Windsor  to-night.  Shall  I 
bid  him  go  with  you  ? ' ' 

'*0n  no  account,"  replied  Elizabeth,  hastily;  blushing 
deeply  as  she  spoke. 

'*  Wherein  has  Sir  Thomas  offended  you,  Bess  ?  You  used 
to  like  him  better  than  any  other.  What  has  occasioned  this 
sudden  change  of  feeling?  Can  I  not  set  matters  right 
between  you?" 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  set  right.  That  I  have  com- 
pletely, altered  my  opinion  of  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  I  will 
not  deny — that  I  have  quarrelled  with  him,  is  also  true — ^but 
he  is  now  perfectly  indifferent  to  me. ' ' 

'  *  Hum  !  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Bess.  But  if  you  refuse 
to  confide  the  cause  of  your  quarrel  to  me,  I  cannot  tell 
whether  you  are  right  or  wrong. ' ' 

"  Your  Majesty  will  never  believe  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  to 
be  in  fault — that  I  know.  But  you  will  find  him  out  in  time. 
He  has  deceived  others,  take  heed  he  does  not  deceive  you. ' ' 

"Whom  has  he  deceived,  Bess? — not  you,  I  hope?"  de- 
manded Edward,  looking  at  her  fixedly. 

"No,  not  me,"  she  answered,  in  some  confusion.  "But 
I  have  heard  that  of  him  which  causes  distrust.  Therefore  I 
deem  it  right  to  warn  your  Majesty." 

"You  bear  resentment  against  him  for  some  cause,  real  or 
imaginary,  that  I  can  plainly  perceive.  Come,  come !  let 
there  be  an  end  of  this  quarrel,  Bess.  You  and  Sir  Thomas 
are  both  dear  to  me,  and  I  would  have  you  friends.     If  he 


Chap.  II]  ELIZABETH'S  LOVE  NOT  DEAD  255 

has  offended  you,  he  shall  apologize — as  humbly  as  you  please. 
Will  that  suffice?" 

"  I  thank  your  Majesty  for  your  gracious  interference,  and 
fully  appreciate  the  motives  whence  it  proceeds,  but  your 
kindly  efforts  are  thrown  away.  I  require  no  apologies  from 
Sir  Thomas,  and  will  accept  none. ' ' 

'*0n  my  faith,  you  are  very  perverse,  Elizabeth.  And  I 
must  needs  confess  that  your  strange  conduct  makes  me  think 
you  must  be  to  blame  in  the  matter. ' ' 

* '  I  shall  not  attempt  to  justify  myself, ' '  she  rejoined, 
'*  neither  shall  I  endeavor  to  shake  the  opinion  your  Majesty 
entertains  of  Sir  Thomas  Seymour. ' ' 

"You  would  hardly  succeed  in  the  latter  effort,  Bess. 
But  let  us  change  the  subject,  since  it  is  not  agreeable  to 
you." 

"  Before  doing  so,  let  me  ask  you  a  question.  How  would 
you  like  it  were  the  queen-dowager  to  bestow  her  hand  upon 
your  favorite  uncle  ?' ' 

*  *  Is  such  an  event  probable  ?  ' '  demanded  Edward,  sur- 
prised. 

'*  Suppose  it  so,"  she  rejoined. 

"There  is  nothing  to  prevent  such  a  marriage,  that  I  am 
aware  of, ' '  observed  Edward,  after  a  short  pause.  *  *  If  the 
queen  must  marry  again,  she  could  choose  no  one  more 
acceptable  to  me  than  my  uncle  Sir  Thomas  Seymour. '  * 

"  But  she  ought  not  to  marry  again  ! '  *  exclaimed  Elizabeth, 
angrily.  ' '  She  has  had  three  husbands  already ;  the  last  a 
great  king,  for  whom  she  ought  ever  after  to  remain  in  widow- 
hood.    Thus  much,  at  least,  she  owes  our  father's  memory." 

' '  If  she  had  forgotten  two  husbands  before  wedding  the 
king  our  father,  she  is  not  unlikely  to  forget  him,"  observed 
Edward.  "Such  is  the  way  with  women,  Bess;  and  her 
Grace  will  not  be  more  blameworthy  than  the  rest  of  her  sex. ' ' 

"But  your  Majesty  will  not  permit  such  an  unsuitable 
marriage,  should  it  be  proposed  ?  ' ' 


256  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  II 

**  I  do  not  think  the  marriage  so  unsuitable,  Bess;  and  I 
see  not  how  I  can  hinder  it. ' ' 

"  Not  hinder  it !  You  are  far  more  patient  than  I  should 
be,  were  I  in  your  Majesty's  place.  I  would  banish  Sir 
Thomas  Seymour  rather  than  this  should  occur. ' ' 

^*To  banish  him  would  be  to  rob  myself  of  one  whose 
society  I  prefer  to  that  of  any  other.  No,  I  must  adopt  some 
milder  course,  if  on  reflection  I  shall  judge  it  expedient  to 
interfere  at  all." 

Seeing  the  king  was  not  to  be  shaken,  and  perceiving  also 
that  she  had  unintentionally  served  Sir  Thomas  Seymour 
by  alluding  to  the  probability  of  his  marriage  with  the  queen- 
dowager,  of  which  Edward  had  previously  entertained  no 
suspicion,  Elizabeth  let  the  subject  drop,  and  after  some  fur- 
ther conversation  the  young  monarch  took  an  affectionate 
leave  of  his  sister,  again  expressing  great  regret  at  losing  her 
so  soon,  and  promising  that  an  escort  should  be  provided  by 
the  Constable  of  the  Tower  to  attend  her  at  any  hour  she 
pleased  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  III 


HOW  THE  EARL  OF  HERTFORD  WAS  MADE  DUKE  OF  SOM- 
ERSET: AND  HOW  SIR  THOMAS  SEYMOUR  WAS  EN- 
NOBLED 

At  a  late  hour  on  that  night  all  the  principal  personages 
who  officiated  at  the  funeral  solemnities  at  Windsor  Castle, 
returned  to  the  Tower. 

Next  day,  a  general  meeting  was  held  in  the  grand  council - 
chamber  in  the  White  Tower.  Certain  new  creations  of 
peers  were  about  to  be  made,  in  accordance,  it  was  said,  with 
the  late  king's  directions ;  and  other  noble  personages  were  to 


Chap,  mi      NEIV  CREATIONS  AND  PROMOTIONS  257 

be  yet  further  dignified.  The  young  king  sat  in  his  chair 
of  state  beneath  a  canopy,  and  on  his  right  stood  the  lord 
protector.  Though  the  long-looked  for  moment  of  aggran- 
dizement had  arrived  to  Hertford,  he  allowed  no  manifes- 
tation of  triumph  to  escape  him,  but  assumed  an  air  of  deep 
humility. 

After  some  preliminary  proceedings,  the  king  arose,  and 
turning  towards  the  lord  protector,  said,  with  much  dignity : 

"  In  pursuance  of  our  dear  father's  directions,  whose  latest 
wish  it  was  to  reward  those  who  had  served  him  well  and 
faithfully,  it  is  our  sovereign  will  and  pleasure,  not  only 
to  add  to  the  number  of  our  peers  by  certain  new  creations, 
but  further  to  honor  and  elevate  some  who  are  already  en- 
nobled, and  whose  exalted  merits  entitle  them  to  such  dis- 
tinction. We  will  commence  with  our  dearly-beloved  uncle, 
Edward  Seymour,  Earl  of  Hertford,  lord  protector  of  the 
realm,  and  governor  of  our  person,  whom  we  hereby  create 
Duke  of  Somerset,  and  appoint  to  be  Lieutenant -General  of 
all  our  armies  both  by  land  and  sea,  Lord  High  Treasurer  and 
Earl  Marshal  of  England,  and  Governor  of  the  Isles  of  Guern- 
sey and  Jersey. '  * 

'*  Most  humbly  do  I  thank  your  Majesty,"  said  the  newly- 
made  duke,  bending  the  knee  before  his  royal  nephew,  while 
the  chamber  rang  with  acclamations. 

"Arise,  your  Grace, ' '  said  Edward.  * '  We  cannot  linger  in 
a  task  so  agreeable  to  us.  My  Lord  of  Essex,"  he  added 
to  that  nobleman,  '*  you  are  created  Marquis  of  Northampton 
— my  Lord  Lisle,  you  are  now  Earl  of  Warwick,  with  the 
office  of  Lord  Great  Chamberlain — Lord  Chancellor  Wriothes- 
ley,  you  are  henceforth  Earl  of  Southampton — Sir  Richard 
Rich,  you  are  made  Lord  Rich — Sir  William  Willoughby, 
you  are  Baron  Willoughby  of  Parham — Sir  Edmund  Sheffield, 
you  are  Baron  Sheffield  of  Buttonwick — and  you,  our  entirely- 
beloved  uncle,  Sir  Thomas  Seymour,  are  created  Baron  Sey- 
mour of  Sudley,  with  the  office  of  Lord  High  Admiral  of 
17 


258  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOURER  [Book  11 

England.  To  these  titles  it  is  our  design  to  add  ample 
revenues,  to  accrue  from  sources  which  we  shall  hereafter 
point  out,  so  that  the  honors  bestowed  by  our  much-lamented 
father  upon  his  faithful  servants  may  not  be  barren  honors. ' ' 

At  the  close  of  this  gracious  address,  which  was  delivered 
with  great  dignity,  another  burst  of  approbation  rose  from 
the  assemblage.  One  after  the  other  the  newly -created  peers, 
and  those  who  had  gained  additional  rank,  then  bent  the 
knee  before  the  throne,  and  thanked  the  young  monarch 
for  his  goodness  towards  them.  As  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley 
knelt  to  his  royal  nephew,  Edward  said  to  him,  '*Are  you 
content,  gentle  uncle  ? ' ' 

'*I  am  honored  more  than  I  deserve,  sire,**  replied  Sey- 
mour; "but  I  should  have  been  better  pleased  with  some 
office  which  would  have  enabled  me  more  completely  to 
manifest  my  attachment  and  devotion  to  you.** 

*'  Such  as  the  governorship  of  our  person  during  our  non- 
age?" observed  Edward,  with  a  smile.  **  Perhaps  we  may 
induce  our  elder  uncle  to  resign  the  post  to  you.  What  says 
your  Highness?"  he  added  to  the  lord  protector.  **  Shall 
not  Lord  Seymour  be  our  governor  ? '  * 

"It  grieves  me  that  I  cannot  comply  with  your  Majesty's 
request,"  replied  Somerset. 

"  Wherefore  not,  good  uncle  ?  "  rejoined  the  king.  **  Me- 
thinks  we  have  showered  favors  enow  upon  your  head  to 
merit  some  slight  return.  Be  good-natured,  we  pray  you, 
and  concede  the  matter  ? '  * 

"  I  cannot  resign  an  office  conferred  upon  me  by  the  coun- 
cil, even  if  I  chose  to  do  so,"  observed  Somerset. 

"  Say  frankly  you  do  not  choose,  brother,"  cried  Seymour, 
impatiently. 

"Frankly,  then,  I  do  not,"  rejoined  the  duke.  "Were  I 
even  called  upon  to  resign,  I  should  protest  against  your  ap- 
pointment, for  I  do  not  deem  you  a  fitting  person  to  have 
charge  of  his  majesty." 


Chap.  Iin      NEIV  CREATIONS  AND  PROMOTIONS  259 

'  *  Enough,  your  Highness, ' '  interposed  Edward.  '  *  We  will 
not  pursue  this  matter  further.  A  time  will  come  when  we  can 
choose  for  ourselves  those  we  would  have  for  directors  and 
advisers.     Meantime,  we  submit  to  the  will  of  the  council.*' 

**The  council  will  soon  have  but  little  authority,"  mut- 
tered Seymour.  "Unless  I  am  greatly  mistaken,  it  will 
speedily  be  bereft  of  all  power. ' ' 

Meanwhile,  the  greater  part  of  the  assemblage  had  de« 
parted,  the  members  only  of  the  two  councils  being  left.  The 
doors  were  then  closed,  upon  which  the  lord  protector  thus 
spoke : 

''Before  we  separate,  my  lords,  it  is  necessary  that  I  should 
point  out  to  you  a  difficulty  in  which  I  am  placed,  and  to 
ask  your  aid  to  remedy  it.  Doubts  have  been  expressed 
whether  you,  as  the  council,  have  power  to  appoint  a  pro- 
tector ;  and  the  ambassadors  of  France  and  Germany  have  de- 
clared to  me  in  private  that  they  could  not  treat  with  me  while 
there  was  any  chance  of  my  authority  being  disputed.  To 
remedy  this  defect,  and  make  matters  sure,  I  now  demand 
letters-patent  from  his  majesty  under  the  great  seal,  confirm- 
ing my  authority  as  Protector  of  the  Realm,  and  Governor 
of  the  royal  Person." 

Several  of  the  council  immediately  expressed  their  assent 
to  the  request,  but  the  newly-made  Earl  of  Southampton  rose 
to  oppose  it. 

**  What  further  authority  does  your  Highness  require?  "  he 
said.      *' Methinks  you  have  enough  already." 

'*  I  have  explained  that  there  is  much  inconvenience  attend- 
ant upon  mine  office  as  at  present  constituted,"  observed 
Somerset.  "Its  origin  has  been  questioned,  as  I  have  told 
you,  and  this  should  not  be — nay,  it  must  not  be.  Unless  I 
can  treat  independently  with  foreign  powers,  I  am  nothing. 
By  his  letters-patent  as  I  propose,  his  majesty  will  give  me 
authority  to  act  according  to  my  judgment  and  discretion  for 
the  welfare  and  advantage  of  his  person  and  dominions. ' ' 


26o  THE  COmTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  U 

*'  In  other  words,  he  will  make  himself  king  in  your  stead,*' 
whispered  Seymour  to  Edward.  '*  Do  not  grant  these  letters- 
patent." 

*'  But  the  measure  you  propose  will  deprive  the  council  of 
all  control,"  pursued  Southampton.  *' We  may  not  approve 
your  acts.  I  am  for  no  further  change.  We  have  made  too 
much  concession  already." 

^'  It  was  found  impracticable  to  carry  on  the  business  of  the 
government  during  his  majesty's  minority  without  a  head," 
observed  Sir  William  Paget,  "  and  therefore  the  lord  protector 
was  appointed.  But  the  office  will  be  ineffectual  if  not  clothed 
with  sufficient  power. ' ' 

'*  These  are  my  own  arguments  against  the  appointment," 
cried  Southampton.  *'The  lord  protector  shall  not  be  our 
master.  According  to  this  scheme,  he  might  annul  all  our 
acts,  appoint  his  own  council,  set  aside  the  late  king's  will, 
and  assume  almost  regal  power  himself. '  * 

**Hold,  my  lord;  you  go  too  far,"  cried  Northampton. 
"  Recollect  in  whose  presence  you  stand." 

*'  It  appears  to  me,  my  lords,"  remarked  the  Earl  of  War- 
wick, **  that  we  have  no  choice  in  the  matter.  I  am  not  for 
abridging  our  powers,  or  for  transferring  them  to  the  lord 
protector.  But  we  must  either  enable  him  to  act,  or  abolish 
the  office." 

'*You  have  put  the  matter  rightly,"  said  Lord  Rich. 
'*The  present  discussion  is  a  clear  proof  that  there  will  be 
little  unanimity  amongst  us.  I  would  therefore  beseech  his 
majesty's  gracious  compliance  with  the  lord  protector's  re- 
quest." 

*'  I  add  my  voice  to  yours,"  said  Lord  Northampton. 

"And  so  do  we,"  cried  several  others. 

'*What  says  his  Grace  of  Canterbury?"  demanded  the 
king. 

'*  I  meddle  not  with  secular  matters,"  replied  the  primate ; 
**but  it  seems  that  the  lord  chancellor's  objections  to  the  ad- 


Chap.  Iin      NEIV  CREATIONS  AND  PROMOTIONS  261 

ditional  power  to  be  conferred  upon  the  lord  protector  are  ill 
grounded,  and  that  your  Majesty  will  do  well  to  accede  to  the 
expressed  wishes  of  the  majority  of  the  council. ' ' 

"There  is  only  one  dissentient  voice,  that  of  Lord  South- 
ampton himself,"  observed  Sir  William  Paget.  "But  I  trust 
he  will  withdraw  his  opposition. ' ' 

"Never!"  cried  Southampton.  "I  foresaw  this  danger 
from  the  first,  and  was  therefore  averse  to  the  appointment. 
Such  an  extension  of  power  is  not  only  pernicious  in  itself, 
but  in  express  violation  of  the  late  king's  will.  I  implore  his 
Majesty  to  hesitate  ere  yielding  compliance  with  the  sugges- 
tion." 

"The  lord  chancellor  is  looked  upon  as  the  head  of  the 
Romish  party,"  observed  Cranmer,  in  a  low  voice  to  the 
king.  "  He  evidently  fears  that  the  lord  protector  will 
use  the  additional  power  he  may  acquire  in  the  repression 
of  Papacy.  Your  Majesty  will  do  well  not  to  listen  to 
him." 

"We  thank  your  Grace  for  the  hint,"  rejoined  Edward. 
"Your  Highness  shall  have  the  letters-patent,"  he  added  to 
the  lord  protector.  "  Let  them  be  prepared  without  delay," 
he  continued  to  Paget. 

Soon  after  this  the  council  broke  up,  and  as  the  lord  pro- 
tector departed  with  his  royal  nephew,  he  cast  a  triumphant 
glance  at  his  discomfited  adversary,  who  replied  by  a  look  full 
of  scorn  and  defiance. 

"That  man  must  be  removed — and  quickly,"  thought 
Somerset.      "  He  is  dangerous." 

On  his  return  to  the  palace,  the  king  was  attended  by  Lord 
Seymour,  whom  he  held  in  converse,  so  as  to  keep  him  by  his 
side,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  lord  protector,  who  was 
obliged  to  follow  with  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

As  they  were  proceeding  in  this  manner,  Edward  remarked, 
somewhat  abruptly,  "Have  you  any  thought  of  marriage, 
gentle  uncle  ? ' ' 


262  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  U 

**  If  I  might  venture  so  to  reply,  I  would  inquire  why  your 
Majesty  puts  the  question  ? ' '  rejoined  Seymour,  surprised. 

*'  You  are  reluctant  to  speak  out,  gentle  uncle,  and  perhaps 
fear  my  displeasure.  But  you  are  needlessly  alarmed.  Let 
me  ask  you  another  question.  Do  you  think  it  likely  our 
mother,  the  queen -dowager,  will  marry  again  ? ' ' 

**  In  sooth,  I  cannot  say,  my  liege.  Not  as  yet,  I  should 
suppose. '  * 

**  No,  not  as  yet — ^but  hereafter.  If  she  should — I  say  if 
she  should — it  would  not  surprise  me  if  her  choice  were  to  fall 
on  you." 

''On  me,  sire!"  exclaimed  Seymour,  affecting  astonish- 
ment. 

**Ay,  on  you,  gentle  uncle.  Nay,  you  need  not  affect 
mystery  with  me.  I  am  in  possession  of  your  secret.  Rest 
easy.  If  such  a  marriage  were  contemplated,  I  should  not 
object  to  it." 

"  What  is  this  I  hear  ?  "  cried  the  lord  protector,  who  had 
overheard  what  was  said.  **  Have  you  dared  to  raise  your 
eyes  to  the  queen-dowager  ?  "  he  added  to  his  brother. 

**  By  what  right  does  your  Highness  put  the  question  to 
me  ?  "  demanded  Seymour,  haughtily. 

'*  By  every  right,"  rejoined  Somerset,  furiously.  *'  If  the 
notion  has  been  entertained,  it  must  be  abandoned.  Such  a 
marriage  never  can  take  place. ' ' 

'*  Wherefore  not?"  demanded  Edward,  sharply, 

'*  For  many  reasons,  which  it  is  needless  now  to  explain  to 
your  Majesty,"  rejoined  Somerset.  *'  But  to  make  an  end  of 
the  matter,  I  forbid  it — peremptorily  forbid  it." 

'*It  will  require  more  than  your  prohibition  to  hinder  it, 
should  it  be  in  contemplation, ' '  rejoined  Seymour. 

''Beware,  lest  pride  and  presumption  work  your  ruin!" 
cried  Somerset,  foaming  with  rage. 

"Take  back  the  warning,"  rejoined  Seymour,  with  equal 
fierceness.     ''You  have  more  need  of  it  than  I." 


Chap.  ly]  SEYMOUR'S  MARRIAGE  263 

*'  My  inadvertence  has  caused  this,"  cried  Edward,  much 
pained  by  the  quarrel.  ''But  it  must  proceed  no  further. 
Not  another  word,  I  charge  your  Grace, on  your  allegiance,'* 
he  added  to  the  lord  protector. 

And  still  keeping  his  favorite  uncle  beside  him,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  palace. 


CHAPTER  IV 


HOW  LORD  SEYMOUR  OF  SUDLEY  IVAS  CLANDESTINELY 
MARRIED  TO  QUEEN  CATHERINE  PARR,  IN  SAINT 
PETER'S  CHAPEL  IN  THE  TOIVER 

On  quitting  the  king.  Lord  Seymour  proceeded  to  the 
Wardrobe  Tower,  where  he  found  his  esquire  awaiting  him. 
Ugo  began  to  express  his  delight  at  his  patron's  elevation, 
when  Seymour  cut  him  short  impatiently,  exclaiming : 

*'Basta!  Ugo.  Reserve  thy  congratulations  for  another 
opportunity.  I  have  got  the  title  I  coveted  and  the  office. 
I  am  Lord  High  Admiral  of  England — " 

*'And  therefore  in  possession  of  an  office  of  the  highest 
honor  and  emolument,  monsignore,"  interrupted  Ugo, 
bowing. 

'  *  I  will  not  gainsay  it.  My  importance  is  doubtless  in- 
creased, but  I  am  likely  to  lose  the  prize  I  thought  secure. 
The  Lord  Protector  has  found  out  that  I  aspire  to  the  hand 
of  the  queen-dowager,  and  will  use  all  his  power  to  prevent 
the  marriage."  And  he  proceeded  to  detail  the  quarrel  that 
had  just  occurred  between  himself  and  his  brother  in  the 
king's  presence.  **His  Majesty  good-naturedly  endeavored 
to  patch  up  the  dispute,"  he  continued;  ''but  I  know  Somer- 
set will  not  forgive  me,  and  will  do  his  utmost  to  thwart  my 


264  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  11 

project.  It  is  well  he  made  not  this  discovery  sooner,"  he 
added,  with  a  laugh,  ' '  or  I  should  not  have  been  in  the  list 
of  those  who  have  this  day  gained  a  peerage.  Thus  much  I 
have  secured,  at  all  events. ' ' 

''And  believe  me  it  is  no  slight  matter,  my  Lord.  Have 
you  any  reason  to  fear  the  consequences  of  a  secret  marriage 
with  the  queen  ?  ' ' 

"  Once  wedded  to  her  Majesty,  I  should  fear  nothing — not 
even  my  omnipotent  and  vindictive  brother,  who  is  taking 
steps  to  clothe  himself  with  regal  power.  I  do  not  fear  him 
as  it  is — ^but  he  may  thwart  my  schemes.  Thy  hint  is  a  good 
one,  Ugo, — the  marriage  must  be  secret." 

'  *  Speedy  as  well  as  secret,  monsignore.  The  sooner  it 
takes  place  the  better.  You  have  other  enemies  besides  the 
Lord  Protector,  who  will  work  against  you.  Have  you  influ- 
ence sufficient  with  the  queen,  think  you,  to  prevail  upon  her 
to  consent  to  such  a  step  ? ' ' 

'*  Methinks  I  have,"  rejoined  Seymour.  *'  But  I  will  put 
her  to  the  proof — and  that  right  speedily.  She  has  agreed  to 
grant  me  an  interview  this  very  morning,  and  if  my  reception 
be  favorable,  I  will  urge  the  imperative  necessity  of  the  course 
thou  hast  suggested,  backing  my  suit  with  all  the  arguments 
in  my  power." 

"Per  dio  !  it  would  be  vexatious  to  lose  so  rich  a  prize. 
Not  only  does  her  Majesty  commend  herself  to  your  Lordship 
by  her  beauty,  her  exalted  rank,  and  her  many  noble  quali- 
ties, but  also  by  her  rich  dower  and  her  store  of  jewels.  As 
to  the  latter  I  myself  can  speak,  for  I  have  seen  the  inventory 
— such  balaces  of  emeralds  and  rubies — such  flowers  and 
crosses  of  diamonds — such  chains  of  gold  and  brooches — 
such  tablets  of  gold  and  girdles — such  rings,  bracelets,  and 
carcanets — enough  to  make  one's  mouth  water.  'Twould  be 
a  pity,  I  repeat,  to  lose  a  queen  with  such  a  dower,  and  such 
jewels." 

**  She  must  not  be  lost !     I  will  about  the  affair  at  once. 


Chap.  ly]  SEYMOUR'S  MARRIAGE  265 

Thou  shalt  aid  me  to  make  a  slight  change  in  my  attire — for 
I  would  produce  the  best  possible  impression  upon  her 
Majesty — and  I  will  then  ascertain  my  fate.  Who  knows? 
The  marriage  may  take  place  sooner  than  we  anticipate. ' ' 

< '  Were  it  to  take  place  this  very  day,  it  would  not  be  too 
soon,  monsignore.  * ' 

Seymour  laughed,  but  made  no  reply.  Having  completed 
his  toilette  to  his  satisfaction,  he  repaired  to  the  queen- 
dowager's  apartments.  He  was  detained  for  a  short  time  in 
the  ante-chamber,  but  when  admitted  into  the  inner  room  by 
a  gentleman  usher,  he  found  Catherine  alone.  She  was 
attired  in  black  velvet,  which  set  off  her  superb  person  and 
fair  complexion  to  the  greatest  advantage,  and  wore  a  dia- 
mond-shaped head-dress,  richly  ornamented  with  pearls,  with 
a  carcanet  round  her  throat.  Never  had  she  looked  more 
captivating. 

Seymour's  reception  was  quite  as  favorable  as  he  had  ex- 
pected— far  more  so  than  he  merited.  But  Catherine,  though 
strong-minded,  was  but  a  woman.  She  listened  to  his  pro- 
testations of  repentance,  his  vows,  his  professions  of  unalter- 
able fidelity — and  forgave  him.  Nay  more,  when  he  urged 
the  necessity  of  a  clandestine  union,  she  seemed  half  disposed 
to  assent  to  it.  Emboldened  by  his  success,  Seymour  resolved 
to  bring  the  matter  to  the  immediate  issue  suggested  by  his 
esquire. 

' '  Why  should  our  happiness  be  longer  delayed  ?  "  he  urged. 
'  *  Why  should  not  our  marriage  take  place  this  very  night — 
here  in  the  Tower — in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel?" 

'^  Impossible  !"   exclaimed  Catherine. 

**Nay,  the  thing  is  quite  possible,  and  only  wants  your 
consent  to  its  fulfilment.  The  chaplain  of  the  Tower  will 
unite  us.  We  shall  then  be  secure  against  all  danger,  and 
may  defy  our  enemies." 

*'But  this  is  too  sudden,  Seymour.  I  cannot  prepare 
myself  in  so  short  a  time. '  * 


266  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  {Book  It 

**  No  preparation  is  needed,"  he  cried.  "  Decision  only  is 
required,  and  you  have  decided  in  my  favor,  that  I  feel,  my 
queen  ! ' '  And  throwing  himself  at  her  feet,  he  pressed  her 
hand  passionately  to  his  lips.  *'  Why  should  we  trust  to  the 
future  when  the  present  is  ours?"  he  continued,  fervently. 
*  *  To-morrow,  unforeseen  obstacles  and  difficulties  may  arise. 
Let  us  seize  upon  happiness  while  it  is  yet  within  our  reach. '  * 

* '  It  is  very  hasty  ! ' '  murmured  Catherine,  but  in  a  tone 
that  showed  she  meant  to  yield. 

''It  seems  so;  but  since  we  cannot  control  circumstances, 
we  must  bend  to  them.  To-night !  let  it  be  to-night,  Cath- 
erine ! ' ' 

The  queen  consented.  Her  judgment  was  not  blinded. 
She  knew  the  imprudence  of  the  step  she  was  about  to  take. 
She  knew  the  character  of  the  man  who  sought  her  hand. 
Yet  she  agreed  to  a  sudden  and  secret  marriage  with  him. 
Her  love  overmastered  her  discretion.  Some  excuse  may  be 
found  for  her  in  the  resistless  manner  and  extraordinary 
personal  attractions  of  her  suitor.  Few  of  her  sex  would 
have  come  off  scathless  from  the  ordeal  to  which  she  was  sub- 
jected. Seymour  seemed  created  to  beguile,  and  on  this 
occasion  his  power  of  fascination  certainly  did  not  desert  him. 
As  he  arose  from  his  kneeling  posture,  with  a  countenance 
flushed  with  triumph,  he  looked  so  superbly  handsome  that  it 
was  impossible  to  regard  him  without  admiration. 

''Heaven  forgive  me  if  I  have  done  wrong  in  thus  yield- 
ing !"  cried  Catherine.  "  My  heart  fails  me,  yet  I  ipust  go 
on.  I  trust  all  my  happiness  to  you,  Seymour.  Do  not 
again  deceive  me  ! " 

"  Have  no  misgiving,  Catherine,"  he  rejoined.  "  My  life 
shall  be  devoted  to  you. ' ' 

It  was  then  arranged  that  Catherine  should  attend  vespers 
in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel  that  evening.  She  was  to  be  accom- 
panied by  Lady  Herbert,  Seymour's  sister,  who,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  devoted  to  her  brother,  and  on  whom  entire  re- 


Chap.  11^]  SEYMOUR'S  MARRIAGE  267 

liance  could  be  placed.  Seymour  also  would  be  in  the  chapel 
with  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  on  whose  aid  he  could  count,  and 
Ugo  Harrington.  When  vespers  were  over,  and  the  chapel 
cleared,  the  doors  could  be  locked,  and  the  marriage  securely 
accomplished.  No  difficulty  was  apprehended  in  regard  to 
the  chaplain.  Seymour  undertook  to  secure  his  services 
on  the  occasion,  and  subsequent  silence,  so  long  as  secrecy 
was  required.  This  arrangement  being  assented  to  by  the 
queen,  with  fresh  protestations  of  devotion  Seymour  took  his 
departure,  greatly  elated  by  his  success. 

But  his  exultation  was  quickly  dashed.  While  traversing  a 
corridor  on  his  way  to  the  Wardrobe  Tower,  he  unexpectedly 
encountered  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  The  princess  was  at- 
tended by  her  governess  and  Sir  John  Gage,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  quitting  the  Tower,  an  escort  being  in  readiness 
for  her  without.  Up  to  this  moment  she  had  looked  exceed- 
ingly pale,  but  her  cheek  flushed  as  she  met  Seymour's  gaze. 
But  she  gave  no  other  sign  of  emotion.  Coldly  returning 
his  profound  salutation,  she  passed  proudly  on,  without  a 
word. 

**I  would  I  had  not  beheld  her  at  this  moment.  The 
sight  of  her  shakes  my  purpose, ' '  he  exclaimed,  gazing  after 
her.  *'  'Tis  strange  how  she  still  clings  to  my  heart.  But 
I  must  have  done  with  this  folly.  'Tis  idle  to  think  of  her 
more. ' ' 

And  he  went  on.     But  Elizabeth's  image  haunted  him  still. 

That  evening,  however,  the  marriage  took  place  in  the 
manner  arranged;  the  chaplain's  connivance  and  services 
being  secured  by  Ugo.  The  queen  and  Lady  Herbert  were 
in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel ;  so  also  was  Seymour,  with  his  esquire 
and  the  Marquis  of  Dorset. 

When  all  fear  of  intrusion  or  interruption  was  over,  the 
ceremony  was  performed  and  the  widow  of  Henry  VUI. 
became  the  spouse  of  the  new-made  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley. 

Close  beside  the  altar  where  they  were  wedded  were  laid 


268  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 

two  of  Henry's  slaughtered  queens — Anne  Boleyn  and  Cath- 
erine Howard.  Little  did  Seymour  dream  at  that  hour  that 
at  no  distant  day  he  would  have  a  place  beside  them.  Little 
did  he  dream,  as  he  uttered  his  vows  at  the  altar — vows  so  ill 
kept ! — that  he  stood  within  a  few  paces  of  his  own  grave. 


CHAPTER   V 


HOW  KING  EDIVARD  RODE  FROM  THE  TOIVER  TO  THE  PAL- 
ACE OF  WHITEHALL 

Appointed  for  Shrove  Sunday,  1547,  Edward's  coronation 
was  to  be  celebrated  with  great  pomp  ;  but  divers  old  obser- 
vances and  formalities  were  to  be  discontinued,  lest,  as  de- 
clared by  the  order  of  the  council,  '*  the  tedious  length  of  the 
same  should  weary,  and  be  peradventure  hurtsome  to  the 
king's  majesty,  being  yet  of  tender  age.  And  also  for  that 
many  points  of  the  same  are  such  as  by  the  laws  of  the  realm 
at  this  present  are  not  allowable."  These  alterations  and 
omissions,  relating  chiefly  to  the  papal  supremacy,  were  pro- 
posed by  Cranmer,  and  vehemently  objected  to  by  the  lord 
chancellor,  Tunstal,  Bishop  of  Durham,  the  Earls  of  Arundel 
and  St.  John,  and  other  adherents  to  the  Church  of  Rome 
in  the  council,  but  after  much  deliberation  and  discussion, 
were  eventually  agreed  upon.  Several  changes,  indeed,  were 
indispensable,  since  Edward  was  the  first  monarch  who  had 
assumed  the  crown  subsequent  to  the  throwing  off  of  the 
Pope's  authority. 

Unusual  interest  attached  to  the  ceremony  owing  to  Ed- 
ward's extreme  youth,  coupled  with  the  circumstance  of  his 
being  the  first  Protestant  monarch  who  had  assumed  the 
crown.     The  latter  circumstance  led  to  much  discussion  with 


Chap.  KJ  HDIVARD  RIDES  TO   IVHITEHALL  269 

those  of  the  opposite  faith,  and  the  proposed  innovations  were 
warmly  discussed,  but  however  divided  the  two  sects  might 
be  on  points  of  doctrine,  each  looked  forward  with  interest  to 
the  young  monarch's  coronation,  and  both  were  disposed 
to  regard  it  as  an  auspicious  event. 

In  order  that  the  new  reign  might  be  marked  by  clemency, 
a  general  pardon  was  proclaimed,  from  which,  however,  two 
distinguished  persons  were  excepted — namely,  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  and  Cardinal  Pole  ;  with  some  others  of  less  note,  as 
Edward  Courtenay,  Earl  of  Devonshire,  Thomas  Pate,  Arch- 
deacon of  Lincoln,  with  two  gentlemen  named  Fortescue  and 
Throckmorton,  all  of  whom  had  been  attainted  of  treason  in 
the  late  reign.  It  was  asserted  that  the  lord  protector  feared 
to  liberate  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  that  Cranmer  had  an 
equal  dread  of  Pole. 

Edward  having  announced  his  intention  of  proceeding  to 
the  palace  of  Whitehall  on  the  day  before  his  coronation, 
great  preparations  were  made  by  the  citizens  to  give  effect  to 
his  progress.  Luckily,  the  weather  was  propitious.  The 
day  was  kept  as  a  general  holiday,  and  was  ushered  in  by  the 
joyous  pealing  of  church  bells,  and  by  the  discharge  of  can- 
non. 

At  the  Tower  the  note  of  preparation  was  sounded  betimes, 
and  the  guard  of  honor,  with  the  archers  and  arquebusiers, 
appointed  to  attend  the  king,  were  drawn  up  on  the  green  in 
front  of  the  palace.  Amongst  the  first  to  depart  was  Queen 
Catherine,  who,  with  her  ladies,  was  conveyed  by  water  to 
Whitehall.  The  Duchess  of  Somerset,  the  Marchioness  of 
Dorset,  and  others,  followed  in  the  same  manner. 

Precisely  at  noon,  Edward  set  forth.  Cannon  were  fired 
from  the  summit  of  the  White  Tower  as  he  issued  from  the 
portals  of  the  palace  and  mounted  his  milk-white  palfrey, 
which  was  superbly  caparisoned  with  damask  gold  deeply  pur- 
fled  with  ermine.  His  own  attire  was  of  corresponding  mag- 
nificence, for  having  laid  aside  his  mourning,  he  now  wore  a 


270  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Booh  II 

robe  of  crimson  velvet  trimmed  with  ermine,  a  jerkin  of  raised 
gold,  with  a  placard  studded  with  diamonds,  emeralds,  rubies, 
and  pearls,  and  a  gold  chain,  similarly  ornamented,  thrown 
over  his  shoulders.  His  hat,  with  a  white  feather  in  it,  was 
looped  with  diamonds.  Additional  effect  was  given  to  the 
splendor  of  his  appearance  by  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold, 
which  was  borne  above  him  by  four  barons  of  the  Cinque 
Ports  apparelled  in  scarlet. 

An  advanced  guard  having  set  forward  to  clear  the  way,  the 
royal  cavalcade  was  put  in  motion.  At  its  head  rode  the 
Duke  of  Somerset,  habited  in  gold  tissue,  embroidered  with 
roses,  with  the  collar  of  the  Garter  round  his  neck.  The 
trappings  of  his  steed  were  of  crimson  velvet,  worked  with 
bullion  gold,  curiously  wrought.  The  duke  was  followed  by 
the  nine  children  of  honor,  apparelled  in  blue  velvet,  pow- 
dered with  fleurs-de-lys  of  gold,  and  having  chains  of  gold 
round  their  necks.  Their  horses  were  richly  trapped,  and 
on  each  was  displayed  one  of  the  king's  titles,  as  France, 
Gascoigne,  Guienne,  Normandy,  Anjou,  Wales,  Cornwall, 
and  Ireland. 

Then  came  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  specially  appointed  for 
the  occasion  constable  of  England,  bearing  the  sword.  He 
was  mounted  on  a  great  courser,  richly  trapped  and  embroid- 
ered. On  his  right,  but  a  little  behind  him,  rode  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  now  lord  great  chamberlain,  likewise  very  mag- 
nificently attired ;  and  on  the  left  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  lord 
chamberlain,  but  now  temporarily  filling  the  post  of  earl 
marshal,  as  deputy  of  the  Duke  of  Somerset. 

Next  came  the  king  on  his  palfrey,  with  the  canopy  of 
state  borne  over  his  head,  as  already  described. 

After  his  majesty  rode  Sir  Anthony  Brown,  master  of  the 
horse,  richly  arrayed  in  tissue  of  gold,  and  leading  the  king's 
spare  charger,  barbed  and  sumptuously  trapped. 

Then  came  the  lord  high  admiral.  Lord  Seymour  of  Sud- 
ley,   resplendent   in   cloth   of  gold,  velvet,   and  gems,   his 


Chap.  K]  EDIVARD  RIDES  TO  IVHITEHALL  271 

charger  trapped  in  burned  silver,  drawn  over  with  cords  of 
green  silk  and  gold,  and  fringed  with  gold.  Beyond  all 
question  the  most  splendid-looking  personage  in  the  pro- 
cession. Lord  Seymour  attracted  universal  attention. 

Then  followed  a  long  array  of  nobles,  knights,  esquires, 
and  gentlemen,  all  well  mounted,  and  richly  apparelled  in 
cloth  of  gold,  cloth  of  silver,  tinsel,  and  embroidered  velvet. 
A  company  of  halberdiers  formed  the  rear-guard.  With 
these  marched  the  three  gigantic  warders. 

To  his  infinite  delight,  Xit  was  permitted  to  accompany  the 
procession.  He  was  provided  with  a  pony  about  the  size  of 
Pacolet*s  horse,  which  had  occasioned  him  such  dire  mis- 
chance. Trapped  like  a  larger  steed,  this  spirited  little 
animal  exactly  suited  his  rider,  being  full  of  tricks  and  mis- 
chief. Xit  rode  with  the  pursuivants,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  keep  order  in  the  procession,  attending  them  whithersoever 
they  went,  and  causing  much  amusement  by  his  assumption 
of  authority. 

A  brief  halt  was  made  by  the  young  monarch  at  the  gate  of 
the  By-ward  Tower,  where  he  addressed  a  few  gracious  words 
to  Sir  John  Gage,  Sir  John  Markham,  the  gentleman  porter, 
and  other  officers  of  the  fortress,  who  were  there  drawn  up. 

"We  thank  you  heartily,  our  trusty  constable,'*  he  said, 
**  and  you  our  worthy  lieutenant,  and  you  too,  gentlemen,  for 
the  care  ye  have  taken  of  us  during  our  sojourn  at  the  Tower. 
We  will  not  say  farewell  to  you.  Sir  John  Gage,  since  we  shall 
have  you  with  us  at  Whitehall.  But  to  you.  Sir  John  Mark- 
ham,  and  you,  gentlemen,  we  must  bid  adieu  for  a  while, 
committing  our  fortress  to  your  custody.'* 

Bending  gracefully  in  return  for  the  salutations  addressed 
him,  he  then  moved  on,  while  Sir  John  Gage,  mounting 
a  richly-trapped  charger,  which  was  held  in  readiness  for  him 
by  an  esquire,  took  his  place  in  the  procession  by  the  side  of 
Lord  Seymour. 

While  glancing  round  at  the  burly  yeomen  of  the  guard 


272  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOILER  IBook  11 

stationed  near  the  barbican,  Edward  remarked  amidst  the 
throng  the  repulsive  and  ill-omened  countenance  of  Mauger, 
and  with  an  irrepressible  thrill  of  horror  instantly  averted  his 
gaze.  So  perceptible  was  the  movement,  and  so  obvious  the 
cause  of  it,  that  some  of  the  yeomen  laughed,  and  one  of 
them  observed  to  the  executioner,  '*  His  majesty  likes  not  thy 
looks,  gossip.'* 

**  I  cannot  help  it,*'  rejoined  Mauger,  gruffly,  **  I  cannot 
amend  my  visage  to  please  him.  But  though  he  turns  away 
from  me  now  in  disgust,  he  will  lack  my  aid  hereafter.  Two 
of  the  proudest  of  those  who  have  just  gone  by  shall  mount 
Tower-hill  one  of  these  days  in  very  different  guise  from  that 
in  which  they  are  proceeding  thither  now.** 

**  Have  done  with  thy  croaking,  thou  bird  of  ill-omen  !" 
exclaimed  the  yeoman,  shuddering  at  his  words. 

'*  There  goes  a  third  !**  cried  Mauger,  without  heeding  the 
remark. 

**Why,  that  is  the  lord  high  admiral  of  England,  his 
majesty's  favorite  uncle,'*  observed  his  companion. 

''What  of  that?"  rejoined  Mauger,  with  a  grim  look. 
**  Greater  than  he  have  died  by  the  axe.  I  tell  thee  it  is  his 
destiny  to  perish  on  Tower-hill.  If  thou  liv'st  long  enough, 
thou  wilt  find  my  prediction  verified. ' ' 

Disturbed  by  no  dread  of  the  future,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
full  of  high  and  ambitious  hopes.  Lord  Seymour  rode  on  by 
the  side  of  the  constable,  his  gay  looks,  affable  manner,  and 
splendid  attire,  contrasting  strongly  with  the  grave  deport- 
ment and  stem  countenance  of  the  latter. 

Cannon  thundered  from  the  battlements  of  the  fortress,  and 
from  the  great  ships  moored  in  the  river,  as  the  king  issued 
from  the  outer  gate,  and  deafening  cheers  arose  from  the 
crowd  assembled  to  see  him  pass  by.  All  the  streets  through 
which  the  royal  procession  had  to  wend  its  way  were  railed  to 
keep  off  the  multitude,  and  gravelled  to  prevent  the  horses 
from  slipping.     Barriers  also  were  erected  at  certain  points. 


Chap,  y]  EDIVARD  RIDES   TO  IVHITEHALL  273 

Shaping  its  course  along  Tower  Street,  the  cavalcade  struck 
off  on  the  right  into  Gracechurch  Street,  and  passing  through 
Lombard  Street,  reached  Comhill.  As  upon  the  occasion  of 
Edward's  first  entrance  to  the  city,  the  fronts  of  the  houses 
were  hung  with  tapestry  and  rich  stuffs.  In  Lombard  Street 
especially,  which  was  almost  entirely  inhabited  by  wealthy 
goldsmiths,  there  was  a  magnificent  display  of  cloths  of  gold, 
silver,  and  other  tissues. 

Stages  were  erected  for  the  different  City  companies,  on 
which  stood  the  wardens  and  their  assistants  in  their  gowns 
and  liveries.  Most  of  the  companies  had  minstrels  with  them, 
but  the  best  display  was  made  by  the  Goldsmiths,  who  had  a 
bevy  of  beautiful  young  maidens,  dressed  in  white,  and  bear- 
ing silver  branches  containing  burning  tapers,  ranged  in  front 
of  their  stage.  Moreover,  a  pageant  was  exhibited  by  this 
company  with  which  the  young  monarch  appeared  greatly 
pleased. 

This  was  the  manner  of  it.  On  a  platform  adjoining  the 
stage  just  described,  sat  Saint  Dunstan,  the  patron  saint  of  the 
company,  arrayed  in  a  robe  of  white  lawn,  over  which  was  a 
cope  of  bright  cloth  of  gold  hanging  to  the  ground.  The 
hoary  locks  of  this  saintly  figure  were  crowned  with  a  golden 
mitre  set  with  topazes,  rubies,  emeralds,  amethysts,  and  saD- 
phires.  In  his  left  hand  he  held  a  crosier  of  gold,  and  in  his 
right  a  large  pair  of  goldsmith's  tongs,  likewise  of  gold.  Op- 
posite the  elevated  seat  occupied  by  Saint  Dunstan  was  a 
forge,  at  which  a  workman  was  blowing  with  a  huge  pair  of 
bellows.  In  another  part,  artificers  were  beating  out  plate 
with  hammer  and  anvil,  while  a  third  party  were  employed  in 
forging  and  shapmg  vessels  of  gold  and  silver.  At  the  back 
there  was  an  open  cupboard  filled  with  glittering  cups  and 
dishes,  and  near  it  a  stand  piled  with  ingots  of  costly  metals. 
Then  there  were  assayers,  finers,  and  chasers ;  and  finally, 
there  was  Beelzebub  himself,  who,  after  playing  sundry  divert- 
ing tricks  with  the  artificers,  was  caught  by  the  nose  by  Saint 


274  7'//E  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOURER  iBook  I! 

Dunstan*s  golden  tongs,  and  held  captive  for  a  time,  roaring 
most  lustily  while  so  detained. 

But  this  was  not  the  only  pageant  prepared  for  the  young 
king's  delectation.  In  Cheapside,  not  far  from  the  Cross, 
where  the  lord  mayor  and  aldermen,  with  the  rest  of  the  civic 
authorities,  were  assembled  to  give  expression  to  their  loyalty 
and  devotion,  was  exhibited  the  device  of  a  golden  mountain, 
with  a  tree  on  the  summit  covered  with  fruit,  like  that  grown, 
as  poets  feign,  in  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides.  On  Ed- 
ward's approach,  this  golden  mount,  which  was  reared  on  a 
lofty  stage,  burst  open,  and  a  sylph-like  figure  in  thin  gauzy 
attire,  attended  by  a  number  of  little  sprites,  fantastically 
arrayed,  issued  from  it.  Having  executed  a  merry  dance 
upon  the  stage,  these  elfs  retired  with  their  queen,  and  the 
mountain  closed  upon  them. 

Other  devices  there  were,  very  gorgeous  and  curious,  but 
we  cannot  pause  to  particularize  them.  The  populace  were 
in  high  good  humor,  largesse  being  liberally  distributed  by  the 
heralds ;  while  all  who  listed  could  drink  the  king's  health, 
for  the  conduits  ran  wine  instead  of  water.  Cheers  of  the 
most  enthusiastic  kind  attended  the  youthful  monarch  during 
his  progress,  and  blessings  were  showered  on  his  head. 

At  length,  after  repeated  delays,  the  cavalcade  approached 
St.  Paul's,  then  a  noble  Gothic  pile,  with  which  the  modern 
cathedral  can  in  no  wise  be  compared.  Independently  of  its 
magnitude  and  beauty,  the  ancient  cathedral  possessed  at  this 
time  the  loftiest  steeple  in  Europe,  its  height  being  five  hun- 
dred and  twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  while  the  spire  itself, 
which  was  of  wood,  and  which  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  the 
subsequent  reign  of  Elizabeth,  sprang  two  hundred  and  sixty 
feet  above  the  Tower.  From  the  summit  of  this  lofty  tower, 
strains  which  might  well  be  termed  seraphic,  now  resounded. 
Thither  the  well-trained  choir  of  the  cathedral  had  mounted, 
and  pouring  down  their  voices  on  the  assemblage  beneath, 
ravished  the  ears  of  all  who  listened  to  them. 


Chap,  ^3  EDIVARD  RIDES  TO  IVHITEHALL  275 

As  these  strains  ceased,  the  great  door  of  the  cathedral  was 
thrown  open,  allowing  the  deep  diapasons  of  the  organ  to  be 
heard,  amid  which,  preceded  by  his  cross,  came  forth  the 
Bishop  of  London,  in  his  mitre  and  robes,  and  bearing  his 
crosier.  He  was  followed  by  the  dean,  canons,  and  chap- 
lains in  their  copes  and  surplices,  and  proceeded  to  cense  the 
king. 

To  this  impressive  ceremony  succeeded  an  exhibition  of  a 
widely  different  character.  We  omitted  to  mention  that  from 
the  battlements  of  the  great  tower  a  cable  had  been  drawn, 
which  was  made  fast  to  a  ring  fixed  in  the  masonry  of  the 
dean's  gate.  While  Edward,  who  had  been  enchanted  by  the 
almost  angelic  music  he  had  heard,  was  looking  upwards,  as 
if  in  expectation  of  further  melody  of  the  same  nature,  he 
perceived  a  man  step  forth  upon  the  giddy  verge  of  the  tower 
battlements  with  a  small  silk  flag  in  either  hand,  which  he 
waved  to  the  assemblage  below.  The  appearance  of  this  per- 
sonage, who,  seen  from  that  great  height,  looked  like  one 
of  the  grotesque  stone  sculptures  of  the  edifice,  was  greeted 
with  loud  shouts  by  the  spectators. 

At  this  juncture,  Xit,  who  had  contrived  to  work  his  way 
to  the  king,  called  out,  "  'Tis  Pacolet,  sire.  I  know  him 
even  at  this  distance.*' 

Just  as  the  words  were  uttered,  the  mountebank — for  it  was 
he — threw  himself  with  his  breast  on  the  cable,  and  stretching 
out  his  hands,  which  still  grasped  the  flags,  shot  down  the 
rope  with  amazing  swiftness,  but  happily  reached  the  ground 
unhurt.  The  rapidity  of  Pacolet' s  descent,  which  resembled 
the  flight  of  a  meteor,  took  away  the  breath  of  the  spectators, 
but  as  soon  as  he  was  safely  landed  a  tremendous  shout  arose. 
The  applause  was  redoubled  as  the  mountebank,  nothing 
daunted  by  his  perilous  exploit,  nimbly  reascended  the  cable, 
and  when  he  had  attained  a  sufficient  altitude  for  the  purpose, 
began  to  execute  various  extraordinary  and  hazardous-looking 
feats.     Perhaps  no  one  of  the  thousand  spectators  who  wit- 


276  THE  CONST  ABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  IBook  fJ 

nessed  it  was  more  delighted  with  the  performance  than  Xit. 
He  screamed  like  a  child  with  delight ;  and  his  satisfaction 
was  completed,  when  he  was  ordered  by  the  king  to  see  a 
dozen  marks  bestowed  upon  the  adventurous  mountebank. 

Quitting  the  cathedral,  the  cavalcade  then  went  on.  At 
Ludgate,  however,  another  brief  stoppage  occurred,  for  here 
a  fresh  pageant  had  to  be  exhibited. 

From  this  part  of  the  old  city  walls,  an  admirable  view  was 
commanded  of  the  procession  both  on  its  approach  from  Saint 
Paul's  and  during  its  descent  of  Ludgate  Hill.  The  long  line 
of  gorgeously-attired  horsemen  could  be  seen  crossing  the 
narrow  bridge  over  the  Fleet,  and  proceeding  slowly  along 
Fleet  Street.  In  other  respects,  however,  the  view  from  this 
point  was  exceedingly  striking.  As  the  spectator  looked 
eastward,  the  noble  cathedral  in  all  its  grandeur  rose  before 
him.  Nearer,  at  the  foot  of  the  majestic  pile,  was  Paul's 
Cross,  where  homilies  were  now  constantly  preached.  Turn 
ing  in  the  opposite  direction,  after  surveying  the  then  sharp 
descent  of  Ludgate  Hill,  and  the  open  ground  watered  by  the 
Fleet,  he  could  plunge  his  gaze  through  the  narrow  but  pic- 
turesque streets  almost  as  far  as  Temple  Bar. 

In  this  quarter  were  situated  some  of  the  oldest  and  most 
curious  habitations  in  the  metropolis.  The  streets  were  nar- 
row, the  houses  lofty,  with  high  roofs  and  quaintly-carved 
gables,  each  story  projecting  beyond  the  other,  so  that  the 
occupants  of  the  higher  rooms  could  almost  shake  hands  with 
their  opposite  neighbors ;  but  with  all  these  objections,  and 
many  others  that  might  be  raised  to  them,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  these  ancient  structures  were  highly  picturesque  in 
appearance,  and  that  to  an  artist,  the  London  of  the  sixteenth 
century  would  have  been  preferable  to  the  London  of  our 
own  era. 

Down  precipitous  Ludgate  Hill,  with  its  houses  climbing  to 
the  skies,  as  we  have  described,  and  almost  meeting  above , 
across  Fleet  Bridge — the  space  on  either  side  of  the  stream 


Chap.  K]  EDJVARD  RIDES  TO   WHITEHALL  277 

being  thronged  by  spectators — did  the  splendid  cavalcade 
move  on. 

Here  again,  the  scene  was  striking  and  picturesque,  and 
immeasurably  in  favor  of  Old  London.  On  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  on  the  left,  stood  Baynard's  Castle,  a  vast  and  stern- 
looking  structure;  further  on,  on  the  same  side,  was  the 
ancient  palace  of  Bridewell.  On  the  right,  amidst  a  host  of 
quaint  old  buildings,  was  the  large  and  gloomy  prison  which 
took  its  name  from  the  little  river  that  washed  its  walls. 

At  Temple  Bar,  the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen,  who  had 
accompanied  the  procession  from  Cheapside,  took  their  leave, 
and  the  cavalcade  moved  at  a  somewhat  quicker  pace  along 
the  Strand. 

Here  fresh  crowds  welcomed  the  young  monarch,  and 
greetings  as  hearty  and  enthusiastic  as  those  he  had  received 
in  the  city  saluted  him.  Though  the  houses  were  not  so 
richly  set  forth  as  those  of  the  wealthy  goldsmiths  of  Lom- 
bard street,  still  there  was  no  lack  of  decoration — and  arras 
and  painted  hangings  were  plentiful  enough. 

Amid  cheers  and  blessings  the  young  king  reached  Charing 
Cross,  and  passing  through  the  beautiful  gate  of  Whitehall, 
then  but  recently  erected,  immediately  afterwards  dismounted 
at  the  principal  entrance  of  the  palace. 

Somewhat  fatigued  by  his  ride,  which,  owing  to  the  many 
delays,  had  occupied  nearly  four  hours,  and  anxious  to  re- 
serve his  forces  for  the  morrow,  Edward  withdrew  to  his  own 
chamber,  and  did  not  appear  again  on  that  day. 


278  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  iBook  tl 


CHAPTER  VI 

HOW  KING  EDWARD  yi.   WAS  CROWNED  IN  WEST- 
MINSTER ABBEY 

Within  the  ancient  abbey  of  Westminster,  where  his  sire 
and  grandsire  had  been  crowned,  and  where  so  many  of  his 
predecessors  had  been  consecrated  and  anointed  kings,  all 
needful  preparations  were  made  for  the  youthful  Edward's 
coronation. 

In  the  midst  of  the  choir,  and  opposite  the  high  altar,  was 
reared  a  lofty  stage,  the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  rich 
carpets,  and  the  sides  hung  with  cloth  of  gold.  Two-and- 
twenty  broad  steps  led  to  the  summit  of  this  stage  from  the 
west,  but  the  descent  to  the  altar  comprised  little  more  than 
half  that  number.  The  altar  itself  made  a  magnificent  show, 
being  covered  with  vessels  of  silver  and  gold,  and  having  a 
gorgeous  valance  decked  with  jewels.  The  ancient  tombs  of 
King  Sebert,  Aymer  de  Valence,  and  Edmund  Crouchback, 
were  shrouded  with  curtains  of  golden  arras.  Many  other 
parts  of  the  choir  were  similarly  decorated,  as  were  the  noble 
pillars  in  the  body  of  the  edifice,  which  were  partially  cov- 
ered with  red  and  white  velvet,  and  hung  with  banners  and 
escutcheons. 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  all  the  approaches  to  the 
abbey  were  thronged  by  thousands  eager  to  gain  admission, 
and  before  eight  o'clock  every  available  position  in  the  vast 
building,  not  reserved  for  those  about  to  be  engaged  in  the 
solemnity,  was  occupied. 

About  nine  o'clock,  the  sense  of  tediousness  which  had 
begun  to  afflict  the  assemblage  was  somewhat  relieved  by  the 
appearance  of  the  choristers.     These  were  attired  in  their 


Chat.  P'/]  KING  EDIVARD  VL  CROWNED  279 

copes,  and  had  six  large  silver  crosses  with  them.  Next 
came  forth  the  children  of  the  king's  chapel,  arrayed  in 
scarlet,  with  surplices  and  copes.  Then  appeared  the  chap- 
lains in  surplices  and  grey  amices,  who  were  followed,  after  a 
short  interval,  by  ten  bishops,  mitred,  clothed  in  scarlet, 
with  rochets  and  copes,  and  each  carrying  a  crosier.  After 
another  short  pause,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  himself 
appeared,  mitred  likewise,  and  in  his  full  pontificals,  and 
having  his  crosses  borne  before  him. 

Apparently  wholly  unconscious  of  the  great  interest  he  ex- 
cited, Cranmer  looked  exceedingly  grave,  as  if  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  solemn  nature  of  the  ceremony  on  which  he 
was  engaged. 

Having  formed  themselves  into  a  procession,  the  various 
ecclesiastics  marched  forth  from  the  great  door  opening  upon 
the  body  of  the  fane  for  the  purpose  of  conducting  the  king 
to  the  abbey.  From  this  door,  cloth  of  raye  was  laid  down 
to  the  principal  entrance  of  the  palace.  This  privileged 
path  was  railed,  and  lined  on  either  side  by  archers  and 
halberdiers.  Marshals,  standard-bearers,  and  other  officers 
were  ranged  at  short  distances  from  each  other  along  the 
lines. 

The  spectacle  was  magnificent.  A  bright,  sunshiny  morn- 
ing exhilarated  the  vast  multitude  collected  around  the  abbey 
and  within  the  courts  of  the  palace,  and  kept  them  all  in 
good  humor.  Not  a  single  untoward  circumstance  occurred 
to  disturb  the  general  harmony. 

Meanwhile  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  with  the  prel- 
ates and  their  train,  had  entered  the  palace,  and  every  eye 
was  fixed  on  the  grand  portal,  the  steps  of  which  were  lined 
by  ushers  and  officers  of  the  royal  household. 

At  length,  loud  flourishes  of  trumpets  announced  the  king's 
approach.  First  came  forth  the  trumpeters  in  their  embroid- 
ered coats,  having  their  clarions  adorned  with  silken  pennons. 
Next  followed  the  heralds  in  their   coats   of  arms.     Then 


28o  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  U 

came  the  pursuivants  with  their  maces,  and  a  little  after  them 
marched  Xit,  staggering  under  the  weight  of  a  silver  mace 
larger  than  himself,  and  causing  much  diversion  by  his  efforts 
to  carry  it.  Next  came  Og,  Gog,  and  Magog,  followed 
by  nine  other  tall  yeomen  of  the  guard,  whom  the  giants  over- 
topped by  a  head.  Then  followed  the  children  of  the  king's 
chapel,  the  choir,  the  chaplains,  the  bearers  of  the  crosses, 
the  ten  bishops,  and  lastly,  the  dignified  and  venerable-look- 
ing Cranmer. 

Again,  loud  flourishes  resounded,  and  following  another 
band  of  trumpeters,  apparelled  like  the  first,  came  the  Earl  of 
Northampton,  in  a  rich  robe,  bareheaded,  and  carrying  a  pair 
of  gilt  spurs — as  a  symbol  of  knighthood.  After  him  came 
the  Earl  of  Arundel,  equally  splendidly  arrayed,  holding 
a  bare  and  pointless  sword — signifying  mercy.  Next  came 
the  Earl  of  Dorset,  bearing  the  constable's  mace.  A  second 
sword,  sharpened  at  the  point,  to  signify  justice  to  the  tem- 
poralty,  was  borne  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick.  A  third  sword, 
likewise  pointed,  and  denoting  justice  to  the  clergy,  was 
borne  by  the  Earl  of  Derby.  Then  followed  the  Earl  of 
Oxford  with  the  sceptre,  to  signify  peace.  Then  came 
Shrewsbury,  bearing  the  ball  and  cross,  signifying  monarchy. 
Then  came  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley,  magnificently  attired, 
bearing  the  sword  of  state  in  its  scabbard.  Then  followed 
Barons  Rich,  Sheffield,  and  Willoughby,  marching  together. 
After  them  came  Garter  King  at  Arms,  in  his  rich  coat,  with 
the  lord  mayor  on  his  left,  carrying  a  mace,  and  the  Con- 
stable of  the  Tower  on  his  right.  Then  came  the  lord  chan- 
cellor, the  lord  treasurer,  and  the  lord  privy  seal,  in  their  full 
robes.  Then  followed  the  lord  protector,  carrying  the  crown 
of  Saint  Edward  on  a  crimson  velvet  cushion.  All  these 
noble  personages  were  bareheaded. 

The  crowd  had  looked  on  with  wonder  and  delight,  and  had 
loudly  expressed  their  admiration  of  the  lord  high  admiral's 
splendid  appearance,  but  a  tremendous  shout  rent  the  air 


Chap.  F/]  KWG  EDIVARD   VI.  CROIVNED  281 

as  the  young  king  now  came  forth  beneath  his  canopy  borne 
by  four  barons  of  the  Cinque  Ports.  He  was  apparelled  in  a 
robe  of  purple  velvet,  deeply  bordered  with  ermine,  and 
his  train  was  borne  by  six  pages  in  white  satin.  As  Edward 
marched  on  towards  the  abbey,  smiling  to  the  right  and  left 
in  reply  to  the  cheers  with  which  he  was  greeted,  it  required 
the  halberdiers  to  stand  firm  in  order  to  resist  the  pressure  of 
the  crowd. 

The  trumpet-blasts  and  the  tremendous  cheering  had  ap- 
prised those  within  the  abbey  that  the  king  was  at  hand,  and 
all  were  on  the  tiptoe  of  expectation ;  but  before  describing 
the  entrance  of  the  procession,  let  us  cast  a  hasty  glance 
around  the  magnificent  building.  Magnificent,  in  sooth,  it 
looked  on  this  occasion.  A  spectacle  of  extraordinary  splen- 
dor and  beauty  burst  upon  the  beholder  as  he  passed  through 
the  great  doorway  and  looked  towards  the  choir.  With  the 
exception  of  the  railed  and  carpeted  space  in  the  centre  of  the 
pavement,  the  whole  body  of  the  pile  was  thronged  with 
spectators,  clad  in  the  variegated  and  picturesque  costumes 
of  the  period.  Robes,  cloaks,  and  doublets  there  were  of 
cloth,  silk,  velvet,  and  other  stuffs,  of  as  many  hues  as  the 
rainbow.  Additional  depth  of  dye  was  imparted  to  these 
many-colored  garments  from  the  light  streaming  down  upon 
them  from  the  richly-painted  windows.  Amidst  the  closely- 
packed  crowd  rose  the  tall  grey  pillars  lining  the  aisles,  decked 
with  banners  and  escutcheons,  as  before  described.  The  effect 
of  the  choir  was  marvellous.  The  doors  were  left  wide  open, 
so  that  the  splendid  estrade,  on  which  the  ceremony  was  to  be 
performed,  could  be  seen  from  all  points.  Nave,  aisles,  and 
galleries  were  thronged ;  so  were  the  transepts  on  either  side 
of  the  choir,  so  were  the  ambulatories  adjoining  the  chapel  of 
Saint  Edmund  the  Confessor;  so  were  many  other  places 
which  could  by  no  possibility  command  a  view  of  the  solem- 
nity. In  Saint  Edmund's  Chapel,  which  communicated  with 
the  choir  by  two  doorways  near  the  altar,  were  congregated 


282  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBooklJ 

the  nobles  about  to  do  homage  to  the  king.  Even  Henry  the 
Seventh's  Chapel  was  filled  by  those  who  had  been  unable  to 
obtain  accommodation  elsewhere. 

By  this  time,  the  foremost  part  of  the  procession  had 
poured  into  the  nave,  and,  amid  loud  blasts  from  the  trum- 
peters, the  young  king  at  last  set  foot  within  the  abbey.  His 
canopy  was  still  held  over  him,  and  with  much  dignity  of  de- 
portment he  proceeded  towards  the  choir,  where  he  was  met 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  lord  protector,  and 
conducted  to  the  chapel  of  Saint  Edmund  the  Confessor. 

After  tarrying  there  for  a  short  time,  he  was  brought  forth 
seated  in  a  chair  of  crimson  velvet,  which  was  carried  by 
Lord  Seymour  and  Sir  John  Gage,  and  conveyed  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  estrade,  at  the  north  end  of  which  he  was  set  down 
by  his  bearers. 

Cranmer,  who,  with  the  lord  protector,  had  followed  him, 
then  advanced,  and  looking  at  the  assemblage,  which  had  be- 
come perfectly  silent,  called  out  in  a  sonorous  voice,  **  Sirs, 
I  here  present  unto  you  King  Edward,  the  rightful  inheritor 
to  the  crown  of  this  realm.  Therefore  all  ye  that  be  come 
this  day  to  do  your  homage,  service,  and  bounden  duty,  be 
ye  willing  to  do  the  same  ?  " 

An  enthusiastic  response  was  instantly  made — the  assem- 
blage crying  out  with  one  accord,  *'Yea!  yea! — King  Ed- 
ward !  King  Edward  ! ' ' 

A  similar  address  was  made  by  the  archbishop  at  each  of 
the  other  comers  of  the  stage,  and  like  responses  returned. 

After  this,  the  Bishops  of  London  and  Westminster  ascended 
the  stage,  and  raising  the  king  from  his  seat,  conducted  him 
to  the  high  altar,  where  he  reverently  knelt  down,  but  after  a 
short  prayer  rose  again,  and  offerings  being  brought  him  by 
the  Earl  of  Warwick,  he  laid  them  upon  the  altar.  This  done, 
he  prostrated  himself  on  his  face,  while  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  recited  the  collect,  Deus  humilium. 

Aided  by  the  prelates,  the  king  then  arose  and  returned  to 


Chap.  K/]  KING  EDIVARD  VI.  CROIVNED  283 

his  chair,  which  had  meanwhile  been  so  placed  as  to  face  the 
altar.  Seating  himself  within  it,  he  steadily  regarded  the  pri- 
mate, who  thus  interrogated  him  in  tones  calculated  to  be 
heard  by  all  those  near  at  hand  :  <*  Dread  sire,  do  you 
engage  to  your  people  that  the  laws  and  liberties  shall  be  re- 
spected and  upheld  ? ' ' 

"I  solemnly  promise  it,"  replied  the  young  king,  in  a 
distinct  voice. 

*'Do  you  engage  to  keep  peace  with  the  Church  of  God, 
and  with  all  men  ? ' '  proceeded  Cranmer. 

*'  This  also  I  solemnly  promise,'*  was  Edward's  reply. 

"  Do  you  engage  to  administer  justice  in  all  your  dooms 
and  judgments,  tempered  with  mercy  ? '  * 

*^  I  will  never  swerve  from  justice, "  responded  Edward,  in 
his  clear,  silvery  voice,  which  penetrated  all  hearts ;  '*  yet  will 
I  ever  be  merciful." 

*'  Do  you  engage  to  make  no  laws  but  such  as  shall  be  to 
the  honor  and  glory  of  God,  and  to  the  good  of  the  Common- 
wealth ? — And  to  make  such  laws  only  with  the  consent  of 
your  people  ? ' ' 

**  Such  laws  alone  will  I  make  as  shall  be  acceptable  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  to  my  people,"  replied  Edward,  emphati- 
cally. 

The  archbishop  having  finished  his  interrogations,  Edward 
arose,  and  being  conducted  to  the  altar  by  the  two  prelates, 
a  solemn  oath  upon  the  sacrament  was  proposed  to  him  in 
these  terms  by  Cranmer :  "All  things  which  I  have  promised 
I  will  observe  and  keep.  So  may  God  help  me,  and  so  the 
holy  Evangelists  by  me  bodily  touched  upon  the  altar !" 

This  oath  being  taken,  Edward  prostrated  himself  with  the 
same  humility  as  before,  while  the  archbishop  began  with  a 
loud  voice  the  Vent  Creator  spiritus. 

Cranmer  then  arose,  and  standing  over  the  still  prostrate 
king,  said  the  Te  invocamus.  This  done,  Edward  was  again 
assisted  to  his  feet  by  the  prelates ;  after  which,  the  Earl  of 


284  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  11 

Warwick  advanced,  and  divested  him  of  his  robe  and  jerkin, 
so  that  a  crimson  satin  shirt  was  alone  left  upon  his  shoulders. 
A  pall  of  red  cloth  of  gold  was  then  held  over  him  by  Sir 
Anthony  Denny  and  Sir  William  Herbert,  while  the  arch- 
bishop proceeded  to  anoint  him,  first  on  the  palms  of  the 
hands,  next  on  the  breast,  then  on  the  back  and  arms,  and 
finally  on  the  head,  making  a  cross  as  he  did  so  with  the  holy 
chrism.  While  this  portion  of  the  ceremony  was  performed, 
solemn  notes  from  the  organ  pealed  through  the  fane,  and  the 
whole  choir  chanted  Uh  gebant  regem. 

The  ceremonial  of  inunction  being  completed,  Edward 
arose,  and  the  archbishop  arrayed  him  in  a  tabard  of  tan- 
taron-white,  shaped  like  a  dalmatic,  placing  a  gold  coif  on 
his  head,  which  was  brought  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick.  He 
was  next  girt  with  a  sword,  the  weapon  being  afterwards  laid 
reverently  upon  the  altar  to  signify  that  his  power  was  derived 
from  Heaven.  This  done,  he  again  sat  down,  whereupon 
regal  sandals  and  spurs  were  placed  upon  his  feet  by  the  lord 
chamberlain — the  latter  being  immediately  afterwards  re- 
moved, lest  they  should  incommode  him. 

Saint  Edward's  crown  was  then  delivered  by  the  lord  pro- 
tector to  Cranmer,  and  placed  by  the  archbishop  on  the  young 
king's  brows.  At  the  same  time,  the  sceptre  was  placed  in 
the  king's  left  hand,  and  the  orb  and  cross  in  his  right.  After 
Edward  had  worn  the  crown  for  a  moment,  it  was  taken  off, 
and  replaced  by  the  crown  of  France,  which  was  likewise 
furnished  by  the  Duke  of  Somerset.  A  third  crown,  that  of 
Ireland,  was  next  put  on  the  young  king's  head,  and  this 
being  removed,  the  crown  of  England  was  brought  back,  and 
worn  by  Edward  during  the  remainder  of  the  ceremony. 

Trumpets  were  now  blown  lustily  from  the  rood-loft ;  the 
organ  pealed  forth  its  loudest  notes;  and  the  whole  choir 
sang  Te  Deum  laudamus. 

Then  all  the  lords,  spiritual  and  temporal,  beginning  with 
the  lord  protector,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the 


Chap.  F//]  THE  ROYAL  BANQUET  285 

lord  chancellor,  knelt  down  before  the  king,  one  after  the 
other,  according  to  their  degrees,  and  did  homage  to  him, 
kissing  his  right  foot  and  his  left  cheek,  and  holding  their 
hands  between  the  king's  hands. 

Owing  to  the  great  number  of  nobles  present,  this  part  of 
the  ceremony  occupied  considerable  time ;  but  when  all  had 
rendered  homage,  they  cried  with  one  voice,  **  God  save 
King  Edward ! ' '  and  the  vast  assemblage  joined  heartily  in 
the  shout. 

High  mass  was  then  performed,  and  at  its  close  Edward, 
still  wearing  the  crown,  and  attended  by  the  lord  protector 
and  the  whole  of  the  nobles,  quitted  the  abbey  amid  mani- 
festations of  the  greatest  enthusiasm,  and  returned  to  the 
palace  of  Whitehall. 


CHAPTER  VII 

OF  THE  ROYAL  BANQUET  IN  iVESTMINSTER  HALL,  HOIV 
THE  KING'S  CHAMPION  MADE  HIS  CHALLENGE  THEREAT; 
AND  HOIV  XIT  FOUGHT  IVITH  A  IVILD  MAN 

Within  the  mighty  hall  built  by  William  Rufus,  and  reno- 
vated and  enlarged  by  Richard  II.,  by  whom  the  marvellous 
and  unequalled  Gothic  roof  was  added,  preparations  had  been 
made  on  the  grandest  scale  for  a  banquet  to  be  given  by  the 
king  to  his  nobles  immediately  after  the  coronation. 

This  vast  chamber — supposed  to  be  the  largest  in  the 
world  unsupported  by  pillars,  and  the  size  of  which  may  be 
estimated  from  the  fact  that  six  thousand  persons  have  been 
entertained  within  at  one  time — was  magnificently  decorated 
for  the  occasion.  The  walls  were  hung  with  arras  to  about 
half  their  height.     Banners  depended  from  the  huge  chestnut 


286  THE   CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  11 

beams  of  the  roof,  and  the  sculptured  angels  supporting  the 
rafters  were  furnished  with  escutcheons  of  the  king's  arms. 

Three  long  tables,  each  capable  of  accommodating  three 
hundred  guests,  were  laid  within  the  body  of  the  hall.  Upon 
the  dais,  at  the  upper  end,  was  set  a  table  intended  for  the 
king  and  the  chief  nobles,  covered  with  the  fairest  napery, 
and  literally  blazing  with  vessels  of  gold  and  silver  of  rarest 
workmanship  and  device.  Over  the  royal  chair  was  a  canopy 
of  cloth  of  gold,  embroidered  with  the  king's  arms,  and  at 
either  end  of  the  table  stood  an  open  cupboard,  nine  stages 
high,  filled  with  glittering  salvers,  costly  ornaments  of  gold 
and  silver,  goblets,  and  other  drinking-vessels. 

About  half  way  down  the  hall,  on  the  left,  a  platform  was 
erected  for  the  minstrels,  and  on  the  opposite  side  was  a 
similar  stage  for  the  carvers. 

No  sooner  was  the  solemnity  within  the  abbey  at  an  end, 
than  all  who  had  invitations  to  the  banquet — and  they  were 
upwards  of  a  thousand  persons — proceeded  to  Westminster 
Hall,  and  were  promptly  conducted  by  the  marshals  and 
ushers  to  their  places.  Not  a  seat  at  either  of  the  three  long 
tables  was  soon  left  vacant ;  and  what  with  gentlemen  waiters, 
and  yeomen  waiters,  marshals,  ushers,  grooms,  and  serving- 
men,  the  body  of  the  hall  was  quite  full. 

Loud  flourishes  of  trumpets  from  the  upper  end  of  the 
spacious  chamber  then  proclaimed  the  king's  approach. 
First  of  all  the  nobles  entered,  and  were  ushered  to  their 
places  by  the  vice-chamberlain.  Sir  Anthony  Wingfield ;  then 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the 
Lord  Protector,  and  lastly,  the  king.  Cranmer  sat  on  the 
right  of  the  royal  chair,  and  the  Lord  Protector  on  the  left. 

Grace  having  been  solemnly  said,  the  trumpets  were  again 
sounded,  and  as  the  first  course  was  brought  in  by  a  vast  train 
of  attendants,  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  lord  great  chamberlain, 
and  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  lord  chamberlain  of  the  household, 
magnificently  arrayed,  and  mounted  on  horses  trapped  in 


Chap.  K//]  THE  ROYAL  BANQUET  287 

cloth  of  gold  and  velvet,  entered  the  hall  by  the  great  door, 
and  rode  between  the  long  tables  to  the  dais  to  superintend 
the  service. 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  describe  the  dishes  either  at  the 
king's  table  or  at  those  assigned  to  the  less  important  guests. 
It  will  be  enough  to  say  that  the  banquet  was  ordered  in  right 
regal  fashion,  with  many  subtleties  and  strange  devices  ;  that 
the  meats  were  of  the  daintiest,  and  the  wines  of  the  best 
and  rarest.  *'What  should  I  speak  or  write  of  the  sumptu- 
ous, fine,  and  delicate  meats  prepared  for  this  high  and  hon- 
orable coronation,"  quoth  an  old  chronicler,  ''or  of  the 
honorable  order  of  the  services,  the  clean  handling  and 
breaking  of  meats,  the  ordering  of  the  dishes,  with  the 
plentiful  abundance,  so  that  no  worshipful  person  went  away 
unfeasted  ? ' ' 

When  the  second  course  was  served,  which  was  yet  more 
sumptuous  than  the  first,  the  great  door  of  the  hall  was  again 
thrown  wide  open  to  admit  the  king's  champion.  Sir  John 
Dymoke.  Armed,  cap-a-pied,  in  burnished  steel,  having  a 
plume  of  white  ostrich  feathers  in  his  helm,  and  mounted  on 
a  charger,  trapped  in  gold  tissue,  embroidered  with  the  arms 
of  England  and  France,  the  champion  rode  slowly  up  the 
centre  of  the  hall,  preceded  by  a  herald.  The  champion 
might  well  be  splendidly  equipped  and  proudly  mounted, 
since,  by  his  office,  he  was  allowed  the  king's  best  suit  of 
armor,  ''save  one,"  and  the  best  charger  from  the  royal 
stables,  "save  one,"  with  trappings  to  boot. 

As  Sir  John  Dymoke  approached  the  dais,  he  was  encoun- 
tered by  Garter  King  at  Arms,  who  called  out  to  him  in  a 
loud  voice,  "Whence  come  you.  Sir  Knight,  and  what  is 
your  pretence  ? ' ' 

"  That  you  shall  hear  anon,"  replied  the  champion,  cour- 
teously. And  addressing  his  own  herald,  he  commanded 
him  to  make  proclamation,  who,  after  thrice  exclaiming 
"  Oyez  !  "  thus  proceeded:    "If  there  be  any  person  here, 


288  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  II 

of  whatsoever  state  or  degree,  who  shall  declare  that  King 
Edward  the  Sixth  is  not  the  rightful  inheritor  of  this  realm, 
I,  Sir  John  Dymoke,  the  king's  champion,  offer  him  my 
glove,  and  will  do  battle  with  him  to  the  utterance. ' ' 

As  the  herald  concluded,  Sir  John  took  off  his  gauntlet 
and  hurled  it  on  the  ground.  This  challenge  was  afterwards 
repeated  in  different  parts  of  the  hall.  As  the  defiance,  how- 
ever, was  not  accepted,  the  champion  rode  towards  the  dais, 
and  demanded  a  cup  of  wine.  A  large  parcel-gilt  goblet, 
filled  with  malmsey,  was  then  handed  him  by  the  chief  cup- 
bearer, and  having  drunk  from  it,  he  claimed  the  cover, 
which  being  given  him,  he  retired. 

The  banquet  then  proceeded.  The  trumpets  sounded  for 
the  third  course,  and  when  it  had  been  brought  in,  a  side 
door  on  the  right  of  the  hall  was  opened,  and  gave  admittance 
to  a  device  of  a  very  unusual  character.  Three  colossal  fig- 
ures, clad  in  Anglo-Saxon  armor  of  the  period  of  the  Con- 
quest, such  as  may  be  seen  in  ancient  tapestry,  and  consisting 
of  mingled  leather  and  steel,  and  wearing  conical  helmets, 
with  fantastic  nasal  projections,  shaped  like  the  beak  of  a 
bird,  entered,  carrying  over  their  heads  an  enormous  shield, 
the  circumference  of  which  was  almost  as  large  as  King 
Arthur's  famous  Round  Table,  as  it  had  need  to  be,  since  it 
formed  a  stage  for  the  display  of  a  fully-equipped  knight 
mounted  on  a  charger,  barbed  and  tra.pped.  These  huge 
Anglo-Saxon  warriors,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  were 
the  gigantic  w  vrders  of  the  Tower,  while  the  knight  they 
bore  upon  the  shield,  it  is  equally  needless  to  add,  was  the 
king's  dwarf.  Mounted  on  his  pony,  which,  as  we  have  said, 
was  trapped  like  a  war-horse,  Xit  carried  a  tilting  lance  in 
his  hand,  and  a  battle-axe  at  his  saddle-bow.  As  he  was 
borne  along  the  hall  in  his  exalted  position,  he  looked  round 
with  a  smile  of  triumph.  After  the  giants  came  another 
fantastic  personage,  partially  clad  in  the  skins  of  wild  ani- 
mals, with  a  grotesque  mask  on  his  face,  sandals  on  his  feet, 


Chap.  yW]  THE  ROYAL  BANQUET  289 

and  a  massive-looking  club  on  his  shoulder.  This  wild-look- 
ing man  was  Pacolet, 

As  the  knightly  dwarf  was  brought  within  a  short  distance 
of  the  royal  table,  which,  from  his  eminent  position,  he  quite 
overlooked,  he  was  met  by  Garter,  who  demanded  his  title  and 
pretence. 

**I  am  called  Sir  Pumilio,"  replied  Xit,  in  a  shrill  voice, 
'*  and  the  occasion  of  my  coming  hither  is  to  do  battle  with  <i 
wild  man  in  the  king's  presence,  if  I  be  so  permitted.'* 

*'His  majesty  greets  thee  well.  Sir  Pumilio,"  rejoined  the 
Garter,  with  difficulty  preserving  his  countenance.  "  Do  thy 
devoir  as  becomes  a  valiant  knight." 

*'I  will  essay  to  do  so,"  cried  Xit.  **  Where  lurks  the 
fierce  savage  ?  "  he  added. 

''  Behold  him  !"  cried  Pacolet. 

While  Xit  was  talking  to  Garter,  the  agile  mountebank  had 
climbed  the  shoulders  of  a  tall  yeoman  of  the  guard  who  was 
standing  near,  and  he  now  sprang  upon  the  shield.  Xit  im- 
mediately charged  him,  and  strove  to  drive  him  off  the  stage, 
but  Pacolet  adroitly  avoided  the  thrust,  and  the  dwarf  had 
well-nigh  gone  over  himself.  The  combatants  had  not  a  very 
large  arena  for  the  display  of  their  prowess,  but  they  made  the 
best  of  it,  and  Pacolet' s  tricks  were  so  diverting  that  they  ex- 
cited general  merriment.  After  the  combat  had  endured 
a  few  minutes,  Pacolet,  apparently  sore  pressed,  struck  the 
shield  with  his  club,  and  instantly  afterwards  leaped  to  the 
ground.  Scarcely  was  he  gone  than  the  rim  of  the  shield 
rose  as  if  by  magic,  developing  a  series  of  thin  iron  bars, 
which  enclosed  the  dwarf  like  a  rat  in  a  trap.  Great  was 
Xit's  surprise  and  rage  at  this  occurrence,  for  which  he  was 
wholly  unprepared.  He  struck  the  bars  of  his  cage  with  his 
lance,  but  they  were  strong  enough  to  resist  his  efforts;  he 
commanded  the  giants  to  liberate  him,  but  in  vain.  At  last 
he  was  set  free  by  Pacolet,  and  carried  off  amid  inextinguish- 
able laughter. 

19 


29©  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 

Preceded  by  trumpeters,  making  a  loud  bruit  with  their 
clarions,  and  attended  by  Norroy  and  Clarencieux,  Garter 
next  made  proclamation  of  the  king's  titles  in  different  parts 
of  the  hall.  At  each  proclamation,  the  heralds  called  out, 
**  Largesse!  largesse!"  whereupon,  many  costly  ornaments 
were  bestowed  upon  them  by  the  nobles,  knights,  and  esquires. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  feast,  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
Sir  Henry  Hubblethorne,  who  it  will  be  remembered  was  the 
first  knight  dubbed  by  the  king  on  his  arrival  at  the  Tower, 
arose  from  his  seat  at  the  upper  table,  and  kneeling  before  the 
young  monarch,  offered  him  a  silver  cup,  encrusted  with 
gems,  and  filled  with  hippocrass.  Edward  received  him  very 
graciously,  and  having  drunk  to  the  prosperity  of  the  good 
city  of  London,  returned  him  the  cup,  bidding  him  keep  it  in 
remembrance  of  the  occasion. 

So  ended  this  grand  and  memorable  banquet. 

The  king  then  repaired  to  the  palace,  where  the  jousts  and 
tilting  matches  were  held  in  the  courts,  at  which  Lord  Sey- 
mour, to  his  royal  nephew's  great  contentment,  bore  away 
the  chief  prize. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


HOW  THE  LORD  CHANCELLOR  WAS  DISGRACED 

Though  the  crown  had  been  placed  on  the  youthful  Exiward*s 
brows,  supreme  authority  rested  with  the  lord  protector.  His 
only  formidable  opponent  was  Southampton,  and  the  removal 
of  the  latter,  as  already  intimated,  had  been  resolved  upon. 
A  plan  for  effectually  getting  rid  of  him  was  hit  upon  by 
Paget,  and  unfortunately  for  the  lord  chancellor,  his  own  im- 
prudence furnished  a  pretext  for  his  overthrow  and  disgrace. 


Chap.  I^IIII  SOUTHAMPTON^  DISGRACED  291 

Wholly  unconscious,  however,  of  the  critical  position  in 
which  he  stood,  and  unaware  of  the  projects  of  his  enemies, 
Southampton  attended  the  first  council  held  within  the  palace, 
and  commenced  by  fiercely  attacking  Somerset  for  his  usurpa- 
tion of  power,  and  disregard  of  the  king's  will.  He  had  not 
proceeded  far  when  he  was  interrupted  by  Paget,  who  called, 
**  Hold,  my  lord ;  before  accusing  his  highness  the  lord  pro- 
tector, you  must  answer  certain  grave  charges  which  I  have  to 
prefer  against  yourself.  * ' 

*'  What  charges  be  they?  '*  demanded  the  lord  chancellor, 
haughtily. 

'*  My  lord,  I  accuse  you  of  gross  neglect  of  duty,"  rejoined 
Paget,  *'in  putting  the  seal  in  commission,  and  deputing  to 
certain  masters  in  Chancery  the  power  to  hear  causes  and  pro- 
nounce decisions;  duties  which  ought  by  right  to  be  dis- 
charged by  yourself  alone.  This  you  have  done  without 
license  or  authority  from  the  king's  majesty,  the  lord  pro- 
tector, or  the  lords  of  the  council." 

*  *  No  warrant  was  needed  for  what  I  have  done, ' '  replied 
Southampton,  in  a  proud  and  defiant  tone.  "  My  attention 
cannot  be  given  at  one  and  the  same  time  to  affairs  of  state 
and  to  the  business  of  the  Court  of  Chancery,  and  I  have 
therefore  chosen  to  devote  myself  chiefly  to  the  former.  But 
all  decisions  of  the  masters  will  be  ratified  by  myself  before 
enrolment. ' ' 

*  *  You  have  outstripped  your  authority,  my  lord,  in  what 
you  have  done,"  observed  Somerset,  sternly.  '*  The  judges 
have  been  consulted  upon  the  matter,  and  their  well-consid- 
ered answer  is,  that  you,  my  lord  chancellor,  ought  not,  with- 
out warrant  from  the  council,  to  have  set  the  seal  to  such  a 
commission.  They  regard  it  as  a  precedent  of  very  high  and 
ill  consequence,  and  as  an  indication  that  a  change  in  the 
laws  of  England  is  intended  by  you. ' ' 

'*Tut!  tut!  their  fears  are  groundless,"  remarked  South- 
ampton, contemptuously. 


292  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  It 

'*  Hear  me  out,  I  pray  you,  my  lord,'*  pursued  Somerset. 
**The  judges  unanimously  declare  that  by  the  unwarrantable 
and  illegal  act  committed  by  you,  you  have  forfeited  your 
place  to  the  king,  and  rendered  yourself  liable  to  fine  and 
imprisonment  at  his  majesty's  pleasure." 

**  What  say  you  to  this,  my  lord  ?  "  cried  Paget,  in  a  taunt- 
ing tone. 

* '  I  say  the  judges  are  in  error,  or  have  been  basely  tam- 
pered with,  to  deliver  such  an  opinion, '  *  rejoined  Southampton, 
furiously.  **  But  the  scheme  is  too  transparent  not  to  be  seen 
through  at  a  glance.  'Tis  a  weak  device  of  the  lord  protector 
to  get  rid  of  me.  But  I  tell  him  to  his  face  that  I  hold  my 
office  by  a  better  authority  than  he  holds  his  own.  *  * 

*  *  How  by  a  better  authority,  my  lord  ?  '  *  cried  Somer- 
set. 

**  Because  it  was  conferred  upon  me  by  my  late  royal  mas- 
ter," returned  Southampton,  **  who  not  only  made  me  what 
I  am,  lord  chancellor,  but  one  of  the  governors  of  the  realm  dur- 
ing his  son's  minority,  of  which  office  your  Highness  seeks  to 
deprive  me.  But  you  cannot  do  it,  for  the  king's  will  must 
be  observed,  and  by  that  will,  as  you  well  know,  none  of  you 
have  powers  over  the  others,  or  can  cause  their  dismissal. 
Declare  the  commission  void,  if  you  will.  I  am  content.  But 
think  not  to  deprive  me  of  my  office  for  no  fault,  or  to  re- 
move me  from  the  government,  for  you  cannot  do  it. '  * 

**The  arguments  you  have  used,  my  lord,  are  of  little 
weight,"  observed  Lord  Rich.  **Each  executor  under  the 
late  king's  will  is  subject  to  his  colleagues,  and  cannot  do  any 
act  on  his  own  responsibility.  Thus,  if  one  of  our  number 
should  be  guilty  of  high  treason  or  rebellion,  he  would  be 
clearly  punishable,  and  could  not  shelter  himself  under  the 
plea  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  council,  and  therefore  ab' 
solved  from  his  act.  If  you  can  show  that  you  have  any  war- 
rant for  what  you  have  done,  you  will  be  held  excused,  but 
not  otherwise." 


Chap.  VIW^  SOUTHAMPTON  DISGRACED  293 

"Ay,  produce  your  warrant,  my  lord,  if  you  have  it?" 
demanded  Paget,  sarcastically. 

The  lord  chancellor  made  no  reply.  He  saw  that  he  was 
caught  in  the  toils  of  his  enemies. 

"  Can  you  advance  aught  in  your  justification,  my  lord?" 
said  the  king,  who  had  not  hitherto  spoken.  * '  If  so,  we  are 
willing  to  hear  you. ' ' 

' '  I  should  speak  to  little  purpose,  sire, ' '  replied  South- 
ampton, with  dignity,  *'  for  my  enemies  are  too  strong  for  me. 
But  I  take  Heaven  to  witness  that  I  acted  for  the  best." 

' '  You  had  best  make  your  submission,  my  lord, ' '  observed 
Lord  Seymour.  *'  This  haughty  tone  will  only  make  matters 
worse. '  * 

*'Is  it  you  who  counsel  submission,  my  lord  admiral?" 
cried  Southampton,  almost  fiercely.  *'  I  have  declared  that  I 
had  no  ill  design  in  what  I  did.  I  believed,  and  still  be- 
lieve, that  I  had  power  to  act  as  I  have  acted ;  but  you  all 
declare  otherwise.  I  therefore  submit  myself  humbly  to  the 
king's  mercy.  If  I  am  to  be  deprived  of  mine  office,  I  pray 
that,  in  consideration  of  past  services,  I  may  be  dealt  with 
leniently. ' ' 

* '  Strict  justice  shall  be  done  you,  doubt  it  not,  my  lord, '  * 
said  Edward.  **  Withdraw,  we  pray  you,  while  we  deliberate 
upon  the  matter, ' ' 

Upon  this  intimation,  the  lord  chancellor  quitted  the 
council -chamber. 

After  the  council  had  deliberated  for  some  time.  Lord  Rich 
thus  addressed  the  king:  ''Considering  the  prejudice  that 
might  ensue  if  the  seals  were  allowed  to  continue  in  the  hands 
of  so  arrogant  a  person  as  Lord  Southampton,  we  are  of 
opinion  that  he  should  be  deprived  of  his  office,  and  fined, 
and  remain  a  prisoner  in  his  own  house  at  your  Majesty's 
pleasure. ' ' 

''Is  that  the  opinion  of  the  whole  council?"  demanded 
Edward. 


294  7'//E  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  It 

**  It  is,  my  liege,"  replied  Somerset.  **  You  cannot  pardon 
him, ' '  he  added,  in  a  low  tone. 

*'0n  whom  shall  the  seals  be  bestowed?"  inquired  the 
king. 

**  None  were  more  fitting  for  the  office  than  the  Lord  St. 
John,"  replied  Somerset. 

**Be  it  as  you  suggest,"  rejoined  the  king.  "Let  Lord 
Southampton  be  recalled. ' ' 

As  the  lord  chancellor  re-entered  the  council -chamber,  he 
saw  from  the  looks  of  all  around  him  that  the  decision  was 
against  him.  He  therefore  attempted  no  defence,  but,  with 
his  arms  folded  upon  his  breast,  listened  calmly  while  his  sen- 
tence was  pronounced.  A  deep  flush,  however,  suffused  his 
swarthy  features  when  he  heard  that  the  great  seal  was  to  be 
delivered  to  Lord  St.  John. 

**His  majesty  will  not  gain  much  by  the  exchange,"  he 
muttered;  **but  the  lord  protector  will.  He  will  find  the 
new  lord  chancellor  sufficiently  subservient.  I  pray  your 
Majesty  to  let  me  be  removed  at  once. ' ' 

His  request  was  acceded  to ;  and  he  was  conducted  by  a 
guard  to  his  own  residence,  Ely  House,  where  he  was  detained 
a  close  prisoner. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  WHAT  MANNER  THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL  DISCHARGED 
THE  DUTIES  OF  HIS  OFFICE 

Freed  from  his  most  dangerous  foe,  Somerset  felt  perfectly 
secure.  So  slavishly  subservient  to  his  will  were  the  council, 
that  he  did  not  always  deem  it  necessary  to  consult  them.  In 
many  important  matters  he  acted  without  other  authority  than 
his  own.    Both  civil  and  military  appointments  were  made  by 


Chap.  /A']      THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL'S  DUTIES  295 

him.  He  signed  warrants  for  arrest  and  imprisonment,  and 
issued  mandates  under  his  own  seal.  He  held  private  confer- 
ences with  foreign  ambassadors,  and  did  not  always  disclose 
the  nature  of  the  negotiations  concluded  with  them.  Main- 
taining a  perfectly  regal  state,  he  assumed  a  haughtiness  of 
deportment,  and  an  arrogance  of  tone,  especially  disagree- 
able to  the  old  nobility,  whose  hatred  of  him  was  increased 
by  his  undisguised  efforts  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
Commons. 

Called  upon  to  fulfil  his  lavish  promises  to  his  adherents, 
Somerset  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  satisfy  their  importunities. 
But  he  had  a  resource  which  in  those  days  could  readily  be 
made  available.  The  Church  had  been  largely  stripped  of 
its  possessions  by  the  late  king,  but  a  good  deal  yet  remained 
of  which  it  might  be  deprived.  A  bill  was  hastily  passed,  by 
which  nearly  three  thousand  charities,  colleges,  free-chapels, 
and  other  religious  establishments  were  suppressed,  and  their 
rents  and  revenues  confiscated,  and  transferred  to  the  Crown. 
Out  of  the  funds  thus  obtained,  the  lord  protector  enriched 
himself  and  rewarded  his  associates. 

Calculating  upon  a  long  lease  of  power,  Somerset  deter- 
mined to  build  himself  a  palace  which  should  surpass  that  of 
Whitehall.  Accordingly,  he  selected  a  site  on  the  banks  of 
the  Thames,  and  recking  little  that  it  was  occupied  by  the 
ancient  church  of  St.  Mary-le-Strand  and  other  time-honored 
monastic  structures,  he  sacrilegiously  ordered  their  demolition. 
With  as  little  scruple  as  had  actuated  him  in  the  choice  of  a 
situation  for  his  proposed  palace,  he  set  to  work  to  procure 
building  materials.  There  were  plenty  of  churches  to  supply 
him  with  masonry.  Without  hesitation  he  pulled  down  the 
large  church  of  Saint  John  of  Jerusalem,  with  its  noble  tower, 
the  cloisters  on  the  north  side  of  Saint  Paul's,  with  the 
charnel-house  and  chapel,  and  appropriated  the  wreck  to  his 
own  use.  These  sacrilegious  proceedings  were  generally  con- 
demned, and  the  superstitious  believed  they  would  bring  him 


296  THE   COmT/tBLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  11 

ill-luck.     In  spite,  however,  of  this  disapprobation,  Somerset 
House  was  commenced,  and  eventually  completed. 

While  the  lord  protector  was  thus  exercising  the  power  he 
had  so  unscrupulously  obtained,  holding  a  court,  lording 
it  over  the  council,  controlling  their  decrees,  and  occasionally 
sharply  reproving  them,  conferring  with  foreign  ambassadors, 
signing  decrees  and  warrants,  disposing  of  offices  and  treas- 
ures, making  presentations  and  promotions,  ordering  arbitrary 
arrests  and  imprisonments,  after  the  fashion  of  the  imperious 
Harry,  and  in  all  other  respects  comporting  himself  like  a  king, 
his  younger  and  no  less  ambitious  brother  had  begun  to  dis- 
charge the  functions  of  the  important  office  conferred  upon  him. 

Discontinued  of  late  years,  the  office  of  lord  high  admiral 
was  one  of  great  trust,  honor,  and  profit,  and  was  usually  con- 
ferred upon  princes  of  the  blood,  or  upon  the  most  important 
of  the  nobility.  Supreme  judge  of  all  done  upon  the  main  or 
upon  the  coasts,  the  lord  high  admiral  had  power  to  commis- 
sion all  naval  officers,  to  impress  seamen,  to  collect  penalties 
and  amercements  of  all  transgressions  at  sea,  to  seize  upon  the 
effects  of  pirates,  to  receive  all  wrecks,  a  certain  share  of 
prizes,  with  many  other  privileges.  That  Lord  Seymour 
entered  upon  this  honorable  and  very  lucrative  office  with  the 
sole  design  of  using  it  as  a  stepping-stone  to  yet  higher  honors, 
we  know ;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  he  was  determined  that  it 
should  yield  him  all  the  influence,  power,  and  profit  possible. 
From  a  variety  of  sources,  the  admiral  had  suddenly  become 
exceedingly  wealthy.  Large  revenues  had  been  bestowed 
upon  him  by  his  royal  nephew,  together  with  a  grant  of  the 
rich  manor  of  Sudley,  in  Gloucestershire.  Moreover,  Queen 
Catherine's  dowry  was  at  his  disposal.  Thus  abundantly  fur- 
nished with  means  of  display,  he  affected  a  degree  of  magnifi- 
cence only  second  to  that  of  the  lord  protector.  At  Seymour 
House,  for  so  was  his  residence  styled,  he  maintained  a 
princely  retinue  of  servants,  grooms,  pages,  ushers,  hench- 
men, and  others,  all  sumptuously  apparelled,  and  surrounded 


Chap.  /A-]      THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL'S  DUTIES  297 

himself  by  a  body  of  young  gentlemen  who  served  him 
as  esquires.  His  ostentatious  mode  of  living  was  highly  dis- 
pleasing to  the  lord  protector,  who  remonstrated  with  him 
upon  it,  but  ineffectually. 

About  a  month  after  his  instalment,  the  lord  high  admiral 
was  seated  one  day  in  a  large  chamber  looking  upon  the 
Thames,  in  which  he  usually  transacted  his  affairs.  This 
chamber  did  not  belong  to  his  private  residence,  but  apper- 
tained to  a  suite  of  apartments  assigned  him  at  Whitehall  for 
the  conduct  of  his  office.  The  walls  were  covered  with  large 
maps  and  plans  of  the  principal  English,  Irish,  Scottish,  and 
French  seaports,  while  the  tapestry  represented  ancient  and 
modern  naval  engagements.  Spacious  as  was  the  chamber,  it 
was  so  encumbered  by  models  of  ships,  implements  of  naval 
warfare,  and  great  chests,  that  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  move 
about  it.  At  the  moment  of  our  visit  to  him,  the  admiral  was 
alone,  and  occupied  in  writing  letters,  but  shortly  afterwards 
another  person  entered  the  room,  and  respectfully  approached 
him.  This  was  Ugo  Harrington,  who  now  officiated  as  his 
chief  secretary.  As  Ugo  drew  near,  the  admiral  looked  up, 
and  inquired  what  he  wanted. 

'*  Is  it  your  Highness' s  pleasure  to  see  those  merchantmen, 
who  are  about  to  sail  for  the  Mediterranean  ? ' '  inquired  Ugo, 
bowing. 

"Hast  thou  given  them  to  understand  that  they  may  not 
trade  with  any  port  in  the  Mediterranean  without  my  permis- 
sion?*' rejoined  the  admiral. 

**  I  have,  your  Highness,  and  I  have  also  intimated  to  them 
that  they  must  pay — pay  well — for  such  license. ' ' 

*'And  what  reply  do  they  make  ?  " 

"They  one  and  all  protest  against  the  claim,  and  declare 
such  a  demand  was  never  before  made. ' ' 

"That  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  made  now,** 
rejoined  the  admiral,  laughing.  "I  will  have  the  tribute,  or 
they  shall  not  sail.     Tell  them  so. '  * 


298  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  II 

Ugo  bowed,  and  withdrew.  Seymour  resumed  his  corres- 
pondence, but  had  not  been  long  so  occupied,  when  his 
esquire  returned. 

'*Well,  are  the  merchantmen  gone?'*  inquired  the  ad- 
miral, looking  at  him. 

*  'Ay,  your  Highness, ' '  replied  Ugo.  *  *  They  have  each  paid 
fifty  marks,  which  I  have  deposited  in  your  coffers.  They 
grumbled  a  good  deal  at  the  extortion,  as  they  termed  it,  but 
I  would  not  let  them  have  the  licences  till  they  complied. ' ' 

"Henceforth,  no  vessel  shall  carry  merchandise  out  of 
these  dominions  without  payment  of  an  impost  proportionate 
to  the  value  of  the  cargo.  Be  it  thy  duty  to  see  this  regula- 
tion strictly  enforced. ' ' 

**  Your  Highness' s  commands  shall  be  obeyed  to  the  letter. 
What  is  to  be  done  with  all  those  goods  and  rich  stuffs  taken 
from  the  pirates  who  plundered  the  Portuguese  merchant  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Channel  ?  Application  has  been  made  for 
them  by  the  owner.     Are  they  to  be  restored  to  him  ? ' ' 

"  I  marvel  that  a  man  of  thy  shrewdness  and  discernment 
should  ask  so  simple  a  question,  Ugo.  Restore  the  goods  ! 
No,  by  Saint  Paul !  not  any  part  of  them.  Help  thyself  to 
what  thou  wilt,  and  distribute  the  rest  among  thy  fellows. 
The  taste  of  spoil  will  quicken  their  faculties,  and  make  them 
eager  for  more.  Send  away  this  Portuguese  merchant,  and 
recommend  him  to  be  content  with  his  loss.  If  he  com- 
plains, threaten  him  with  the  Fleet.  These  pirates  are  most 
serviceable  to  us,  and  though  we  may  ease  them  of  their 
booty,  we  must  not  put  a  stop  to  their  trade. ' ' 

**  That  reminds  me  that  one  of  the  most  daring  pirates  that 
ever  infested  these  northern  seas.  Captain  Nicholas  Horn- 
beak,  has  lately  been  captured.  What  will  your  Highness 
have  done  with  him  ? ' ' 

**  Hum  !  I  must  consider,"  replied  the  admiral,  musing. 
*'  Hombeak  is  a  bold  fellow.  'Twould  be  a  pity  to  hang 
him.     I  must  talk  with  him.     Is  he  in  safe  custody  ?  '  * 


Chap.  IXl     THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL'S  DUTIES  299 

**  He  is  lodged  in  the  Gatehouse  prison,  your  Highness." 

**  Let  him  be  brought  before  me  to-morrow." 

'*  I  see  that  Captain  Hombeak  has  a  good  chance  of  com- 
manding another  crew  of  desperadoes, ' '  observed  Ugo. 

''All  will  depend  upon  himself,"  rejoined  the  admiral. 
*'I  have  work  to  do,  which  men  of  Hombeak' s  stamp  can 
accomplish  better  than  any  other.  Ere  long,  I  shall  be  lord 
of  the  Scilly  Islands,  Ugo.  They  are  strong  enough  by 
nature,  but  I  mean  to  make  them  impregnable.  To  those 
islands  I  design  to  convey  stores  and  treasure,  so  that,  if 
driven  to  extremities,'!  can  retire  thither  with  safety.  These 
pirate  vessels  will  then  defend  me  from  attack,  and  if  a  re- 
bellion should  break  out  in  the  land,  they  would  materially 
aid  it — if  properly  directed. ' ' 

*'I  begin  to  comprehend  your  Highness' s  design,"  ob- 
served Ugo.      **  'Tis  a  terrible  conspiracy  you  are  hatching. ' ' 

"Thou  wilt  say  so,  when  thou  art  made  acquainted  with 
all  its  ramifications.  I  have  a  strong  castle  in  Denbighshire, 
Holt,  which  I  design  to  fortify,  and  make  it  another  deposi- 
tory of  arms  and  stores.  In  two  months  I  shall  have  a  dozen 
counties  in  my  favor.  Am  I  wrong  in  making  provision  by 
the  readiest  means  in  my  power  for  the  outbreak  ?  ' ' 

*'  Assuredly  not,  my  Lord ;  you  are  quite  right  to  use  any 
implements  that  will  serve  your  purpose." 

At  this  juncture  an  usher  entered,  and  with  a  respectful 
obeisance,  stated  that  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  was  without,  and 
craved  a  moment's  private  audience  of  the  Lord  Admiral. 

"Admit  his  lordship  instantly,"  said  Seymour  to  the 
usher.  '*  Retire,  Ugo,"  he  added  to  his  esquire,  *'  but  wait 
within  the  ante-chamber.  I  may  have  need  of  thee.  I  can 
partly  guess  what  brings  Dorset  hither. ' ' 

And  as  his  esquire  withdrew,  the  admiral  arose. 

"Welcome  back  to  court,  my  Lord,"  he  cried  to  Dorset; 
"  you  have  been  too  long  absent  from  us." 

"Not  more  than  a  month,  my  good  Lord,"  replied  the 


300  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [BookU 

Marquis;  "but  I  am  flattered  to  find  that  I  have  been 
missed.  Has  his  Majesty  deigned  to  speak  of  me  during 
my  absence  ?  ' ' 

*' Very  often,  my  Lord;  and  he  has  never  failed  to  in- 
quire whether  you  intended  to  bring  your  daughter,  the 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  with  you  on  your  return.  I  trust  you  have 
done  so. ' ' 

"  My  daughter  and  the  marchioness  return  from  Bradgate 
to-morrow.  You  delight  me  by  what  you  tell  me  respecting 
his  majesty's  continued  interest  in  my  daughter.  I  feared  he 
had  ceased  to  think  of  her." 

*' As  yet,  the  impression  she  has  made  upon  his  youthful 
mind  is  strong  as  ever,"  rejoined  Seymour;  *'but  if  she  had 
remained  away  much  longer,  it  might  have  been  effaced.  I 
am  rejoiced  therefore  to  hear  of  her  speedy  return.  But  pray 
be  seated,  marquis.  We  can  talk  more  at  our  ease,  and  I 
have  much  to  say  to  you.  The  time  has  come  for  carrying 
out  our  arrangement  in  reference  to  the  guardianship  of  your 
daughter.  You  have  not  changed  your  mind  upon  that  score, 
I  presume,  but  are  still  willing  to  resign  her  to  my  custody?  " 

' '  I  am  quite  willing  to  fulfil  my  agreement  with  you,  my 
lord  admiral,  but  are  you  in  a  condition  to  receive  her?  Your 
secret  marriage  with  her  highness  the  queen -dowager  is  not 
yet  acknowledged.  Unforeseen  difficulties  may  arise  with  the 
council,  with  the  lord  protector,  or  even  with  the  king,  and 
till  that  matter  is  settled  you  must  excuse  some  hesitation  on 
my  part." 

'*  My  marriage  with  the  queen  will  be  formally  announced 
to  my  royal  nephew  and  the  lord  protector  to-morrow,  and 
you  shall  have  an  opportunity,  if  you  desire  it,  of  seeing  how 
the  announcement  is  received.  You  will  then  be  able  to  de- 
cide as  to  the  policy  of  committing  the  Lady  Jane  to  my 
care." 

'*  Your  Highness  has  no  fears,  then,  of  the  king's  displeas- 
ure, or  of  the  lord  protector's  anger?" 


Chap.  /A- 3      THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRAL'S  DUTIES  301 

*'  I  have  no  fear  whatever,  marquis.  That  Somerset  will  be 
in  a  furious  passion  when  he  learns  the  truth,  I  do  not  in  the 
least  doubt.  But  what  matters  that?  I  am  accustomed  to 
his  explosions  of  rage,  and  treat  them  with  contempt.  The 
matter  is  past  prevention,  and  must  therefore  be  endured. ' ' 

**  You  have  not  yet  disclosed  the  secret  to  the  king,  I  sup- 
pose ? ' '   inquired  Dorset. 

'  *  I  have  not  acquainted  him  with  the  marriage,  but  I  have 
obtained  his  consent  to  it,  and  that  amounts  to  the  same 
thing.  His  majesty  has  even  been  gracious  enough  to  write 
to  the  queen -dowager,  praying  her  to  listen  to  my  propo- 
sals." 

'*Then  there  is  no  fear  of  displeasure  on  his  part,"  ob- 
served Dorset,  laughing.  **  But  are  you  equally  certain  of  the 
council  ? ' ' 

'*  What  can  the  council  do?  "  rejoined  Seymour,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "The  matter  is  past  repair,  as  I  have  just 
said.  They  must  reconcile  themselves  to  it,  as  they  can. 
However,  I  have  reason  to  think  that  the  majority  of  them 
are  favorable  to  me.  I  have  sounded  Warwick  and  Russell, 
and  one  or  two  others,  and  find  them  well  enough  disposed. ' ' 

**  What  says  her  majesty's  brother,  the  Earl  of  Northamp- 
ton ?     Have  you  hinted  the  matter  to  him  ? ' ' 

'*  I  have  not  judged  it  prudent  to  do  so.  But  for  his  sis- 
ter's sake  he  will  be  friendly.  Her  highness  has  great  influ- 
ence with  him,  and  will  not  fail  to  exercise  it  at  the  right 
moment.     Thus  you  see,  marquis,  I  am  perfectly  secure. ' ' 

*'I  rejoice  to  find  you  so  confident,  admiral,  and  trust 
nothing  untoward  may  occur.  But  in  regard  to  my  daughter, 
methinks  the  aspect  of  affairs  is  not  quite  so  promising.  The 
lord  protector,  as  I  hear,  is  determined  upon  enforcing  the 
treaty  of  marriage  proposed  by  his  late  majesty  between  our 
youthful  sovereign  and  the  young  Queen  of  Scotland,  and 
since  compliance  with  his  demands  has  been  refused,  is  about 
to  declare  war  upon  that  country. ' ' 


302  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  11 

"  Your  lordship  has  been  rightly  informed.  The  Duke  of 
Somerset  is  now  actively  preparing  for  an  expedition  into 
Scotland,  and  only  awaits  the  return  of  Sir  Francis  Brian,  who 
has  been  sent  to  France  to  secure,  if  possible,  the  neutrality 
of  that  country.  Most  assuredly,  the  expedition  will  be  un- 
dertaken, and  it  is  almost  equally  certain  that  the  Scots  will 
be  worsted,  and  yet  the  treaty  will  come  to  naught." 

' '  How  so  ?  "  demanded  Dorset.  "  It  seems  to  me,  if  the 
treaty  be  once  executed,  that  it  has  a  good  chance  of  being 
fulfilled." 

*'  It  will  not  be  fulfilled,  because  the  party  principally  con- 
cerned is  averse  to  it.  He  will  choose  a  consort  for  himself, 
and  not  be  bound  by  any  treaty.  Now  do  you  understand, 
marquis  ? '  * 

*'But  he  maybe  overruled,  or  yield  to  considerations  of 
state  policy.  * ' 

*' Granted;  but  if  I  have  any  influence  with  him,  he  will 
do  neither  one  nor  the  other. '  * 

"  Well,  my  lord  admiral,  you  have  removed  my  misgivings. 
I  am  with  you.  Let  but  your  marriage  be  acknowledged  in 
the  king's  presence,  and  my  daughter  shall  be  committed  to 
Queen  Catherine's  care,  and  her  hand  left  to  your  disposal." 

'*The  acknowledgment  will  take  place  at  Seymour  House 
to-morrow,  marquis,  and  you  yourself  shall  witness  it,  if  you 
list.  The  king  honors  me  with  his  presence  at  a  banquet,  and 
the  lord  protector,  with  the  council  and  many  of  the  nobles, 
is  invited  to  meet  him.  I  shall  make  it  the  occasion  of 
introducing  my  royal  consort  to  them. ' ' 

"  *Tis  a  plan  worthy  of  you,"  replied  Dorset.  *' I  can 
imagine  the  scene — the  lord  protector's  surprise  and  indigna- 
tion, and  the  embarrassment  of  the  council ;  but  since  you 
have  the  king  with  you,  all  must  end  satisfactorily.  I  am 
much  beholden  to  your  lordship  for  allowing  me  to  be  present 
on  so  interesting  an  occasion,  and  will  not  fail  to  attend  upon 
you. ' ' 


Chap.  IX"]      THE  LORD  HIGH  ADMIRALS  DUTIES  303 

Upon  this,  he  arose  as  if  about  to  take  his  leave,  but  after  a 
little  hesitation,  added,  '*  I  was  about  to  put  your  friendship 
to  a  further  test,  but  will  delay  doing  so  to  a  more  convenient 
opportunity. ' ' 

*'  No  time  can  be  more  convenient  than  the  present,  mar- 
quis," said  the  admiral,  who  guessed  what  was  coming. 
"  How  can  I  serve  you?     Only  point  out  the  way.*' 

' '  You  have  already  lent  me  five  hundred  pounds.  I  like 
not  to  trespass  further  on  your  good  nature." 

*'  Nay,  you  confer  a  favor  upon  me  by  enabling  me  to  prove 
the  sincerity  of  my  regard  for  you,  marquis.  How  much  do 
you  need?" 

**  If  I  might  venture  to  ask  for  other  five  hundred  pounds  ? '  * 

'*  How,  venture  ?  Have  I  not  said  that  I  shall  be  the  person 
obliged?  Are  you  quite  sure  that  five  hundred  pounds  will 
suffice?" 

**  Quite  sure.  They  will  amply  suffice — for  the  present," 
he  added  to  himself. 

'*Ugo  Harrington  shall  cause  the  sum  to  be  conveyed 
to  Dorset  House,"  said  the  admiral.  **I  count  upon  your 
support  to-morrow." 

''  Not  merely  to-morrow,  but  at  all  other  times,  my  dear 
lord, ' '  rejoined  Dorset,  bowing  and  departing. 

When  he  was  left  alone,  Seymour  thus  gave  utterance  to  his 
sentiments:  ''He  estimates  the  disposal  of  his  daughter's 
hand  at  a  thousand  pounds.  He  knows  not  its  value.  'Tis 
worth  all  Somerset's  titles  and  revenues,  and  shall  make  me 
ruler  in  his  stead." 


304  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 


CHAPTER  X 


HOW  QUEEhl  CATHERINE  PARR  PASSED  HER  TIME  AT 
CHELSEA  MANOR-HOUSE 

Absenting  herself  entirely  from  court  so  long  as  her  marriage 
with  the  lord  admiral  continued  unavowed,  the  queen-dowager 
dwelt  in  perfect  retirement  at  her  manor-house  at  Chelsea — a 
delightful  residence,  forming  part  of  the  rich  jointure  settled 
upon  her  by  her  late  royal  husband. 

Built  by  Henry  VIII.  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  edifice 
bestowed  upon  him  by  Lord  Sandys,  Chelsea  Manor-House 
was  originally  designed  by  the  monarch  as  a  nursery  for  his 
younger  children,  and  to  that  end  he  provided  the  place  with 
extensive  and  beautiful  gardens,  abounding  with  smooth  green 
lawns,  trim  gravel  walks  and  terraces,  knots,  parterres,  alleys, 
fountains,  mounts,  labyrinths,  and  summer-houses.  These 
fair  gardens  were  surrounded  by  high  walls,  except  on  the 
side  facing  the  river,  where  a  broad  terrace,  protected  by 
a  marble  balustrade,  offered  a  delightful  promenade,  and 
commanded  a  wide  reach  of  the  Thames,  with  a  distant  view 
of  Westminster  Abbey,  Whitehall,  the  Gothic  cathedral  of 
Saint  Paul's,  with  its  lofty  spire,  Baynard's  Castle,  old  London 
Bridge,  and  the  Tower.  The  grounds  were  well -timbered, 
and  park -like  in  appearance,  and  the  house  was  large  and 
commodious,  and  possessed  many  noble  apartments.  Quad- 
rangular in  shape,  it  possessed  a  spacious  court,  and,  with  the 
outbuildings,  covered  a  vast  area.  Such  was  Chelsea  Manor- 
House  when  inhabited  by  Queen  Catherine  Parr. 

A  few  years  later,  this  delightful  mansion  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  all -grasping  Duke  of  Northumberland,  who  had  coveted 
it  even  while  it  was  in  Catherine's  possession,  but  he  did  not 


Chap,  A-]         QUEEN  CATHERINE  IN  SECLUSION  305 

enjoy  it  long.  His  widow,  however,  died  here.  Its  next 
important  occupant  was  the  famous  Charles  Howard,  Earl 
of  Nottingham,  lord  high  admiral  in  Elizabeth's  time,  by 
whom  the  redoubtable  Spanish  Armada  was  dispersed  and 
destroyed.  Here  Nottingham  was  often  visited  by  his  royal 
mistress,  who  loved  the  place  from  old,  and  perhaps  tender, 
recollections,  for  in  its  bowers  and  shady  walks  she  had 
listened  to  much  amorous  converse — as  we  shall  learn  pres- 
ently— from  the  impassioned  and  irresistible  Seymour. 

After  the  lapse  of  nearly  a  century  and  a  half,  during 
which  the  old  manor-house  underwent  many  changes,  it  came 
into  the  occupation  of  Sir  Hans  Sloane,  who  formed  within  it 
that  noble  library  and  large  collection  of  objects  connected 
with  natural  history  which  led  to  the  foundation  of  the  Brit- 
ish Museum.  On  Sir  Hans  Sloane's  death,  in  1753,  and  the 
removal  of  his  library  and  museum  to  Montague  House,  the 
ancient  structure  was  pulled  down,  and  a  row  of  houses,  now 
forming  part  of  Cheyne  Walk,  erected  in  its  stead. 

The  neighborhood  is  still  pleasant,  and  seems  to  wear  a 
bright,  sunshiny  aspect,  but  it  had  a  brighter  and  sunnier  look 
in  days  long  gone  by,  when  the  picturesque  old  edifice,  with 
its  pointed  roofs,  carved  gables,  large  bay-windows,  and  great 
porch,  could  be  seen  from  some  gilded  barge,  propelled  by 
oarsmen  in  rich  liveries  through  the  then  pellucid  waters  of 
the  Thames;  when  august  personages  and  high-born  dames 
could  be  seen  pacing  its  terraces,  or  issuing  from  its  quaintly- 
clipped  alleys,  while  royal  children  disported  upon  its  lawns. 
It  may  be  mentioned  that  in  the  vicinity  of  Chelsea  Manor- 
House  stood  the  residence  of  one  of  Henry's  noblest  victims 
— the  wise  and  good  Sir  Thomas  More. 

To  Catherine,  the  quietude  she  enjoyed  in  this  charming 
retreat  was  inconceivably  delightful.  Never  from  the  hour 
when  she  had  become  the  suspicious  and  inexorable  Henry's 
bride  until  death  released  her  from  his  tyranny,  had  she  been 
free  from  dread.  Now  she  could  once  more  call  her  life  her 
20 


3o6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  U 

own,  and  could  pursue  her  own  inclinations  without  trembling 
for  the  consequences. 

The  sole  drawback  to  her  complete  felicity  was  that  she  was 
necessarily  deprived  of  so  much  of  her  husband's  society. 
The  utmost  caution  had  to  be  observed  in  their  intercourse 
during  this  period.  Only  two  faithful  servants  were  intrusted 
with  the  important  secret.  Seymour's  visits  were  paid  at 
night,  long  after  the  household  had  retired  to  rest.  The  river 
offered  a  secure  approach  to  the  garden.  Screened  by  an 
overhanging  willow,  his  light,  swift  bark,  manned  by  trusty 
boatmen,  awaited  his  return.  A  postern,  of  which  he  alone 
possessed  the  key,  and  a  secret  staircase,  admitted  him  to  the 
queen's  apartments. 

With  what  rapture  was  he  welcomed  by  Catherine  !  How 
anxiously  she  expected  his  coming !  how  she  counted  the 
moments  if  he  was  late  !  How  she  sprang  to  meet  him  when 
his  footstep  was  heard  !  How  she  strained  him  to  her  bosom 
when  he  appeared  !  With  what  pride,  with  what  admiration 
did  she  regard  him !  His  noble  lineaments  seemed  to  grow 
in  beauty,  his  stately  figure  to  acquire  fresh  grace,  the  oftener 
she  gazed  upon  him  ! 

Deeply,  devotedly  did  Catherine  love  her  husband.  And 
was  her  tenderness  returned?  Let  us  not  ask  the  question. 
Perhaps  Seymour  deemed  he  loved  her  then.  At  all  events, 
Catherine  was  deluded  into  that  belief  Alas  !  poor  queen  ! 
It  was  well  she  could  not  see  into  the  future. 

A  month  had  flown  by,  when  Catherine  was  seated  alone 
one  night  in  her  chamber,  anxiously  expecting  her  husband. 
It  was  long  past  the  hour  at  which  he  usually  came.  What 
could  have  detained  him  ?  She  arose,  and  went  to  the  large 
bay-window  looking  upon  the  garden,  but  the  night  was  dark, 
and  she  could  make  out  nothing  but  the  sombre  masses  of  the 
trees,  and  the  darkling  river  beyond. 

Returning,  she  took  up  a  volume  that  was  lying  on  the 
table,  and  applied  herself  to  its  perusal.     But  her  thoughts 


Chap.  A']         QUEEN  CATHERINE  IN  SECLUSION  307 

wandered  away  from  the  subject,  and  finding  it  vain  to  at- 
tempt to  fix  them  upon  the  book,  she  resolved  to  essay  the 
soothing  effect  of  music,  and  sat  down  to  the  virginals. 

The  apartment  in  which  we  have  thus  found  her  was  situ- 
ated in  the  west  wing  of  the  house,  and  its  windows,  as  we 
have  intimated,  looked  upon  the  terrace  and  on  the  expansive 
reach  of  the  river.  It  was  spacious,  with  a  beautifully 
moulded  ceiling,  and  wainscots  of  black  polished  oak.  Sev- 
eral paintings  adorned  the  walls,  noticeable  among  which 
were  portraits  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  three  children — Ed- 
ward, Mary,  and  Elizabeth — ^as  well  as  of  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond. 

Catherine  was  still  seated  at  the  instrument,  playing  a  half- 
melancholy  tune,  which  harmonized  with  her  feelings,  when 
the  hangings  that  covered  the  doorway  were  suddenly  drawn 
aside,  and  her  husband  stood  before  her.  While  he  divested 
himself  of  the  long  dark  cloak  in  which  he  was  enveloped, 
and  threw  it,  with  his  crimson  velvet  cap,  on  a  chair,  she 
flew  towards  him  with  an  exclamation  of  delight,  and  flung 
her  arms  about  his  neck. 

''So  you  are  come  at  last,  Se)nnour,**  she  cried.  **I 
feared  some  mischance  had  befallen  you.'* 

''  I  have  had  much  to  do  to-night,  sweetheart,"  he  replied. 
*'But  I  bring  you  good  news.  Come  and  sit  by  me," 
he  added,  flinging  himself  into  a  couch,  **and  you  shall 
hear  it." 

Catherine  delightedly  complied.  "Has  his  majesty  be- 
stowed some  new  honor  upon  you  ? ' '  she  inquired. 

''I  am  to  have  the  Garter  in  a  few  days,  with  Dorset 
and  the  Earl  of  Derby,"  he  said;  "but  it  is  not  to  that 
I  refer." 

"What  is  it,  then?"  cried  Catherine.  "Nay,  let  me 
guess.  I  have  it !  You  are  to  be  made  governor  of  the 
king's  person  !     The  protector  will  retire  in  your  favor !  " 

"Alas!  no,"  rejoined  the  admiral.     "That  is  a  piece  of 


3o8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  11 

good  fortune  not  likely  to  occur  to  me.  But  the  matter  in 
question  concerns  you  quite  as  much  as  myself,  Kate. ' ' 

*'A11  that  concerns  you  must  needs  concern  me,"  she 
answered.  **  But  since  what  you  have  to  tell  relates  partly  to 
myself,  I  suppose  you  must  allude  to  the  acknowledgment  of 
our  marriage. ' ' 

*'Now  you  have  hit  it,  sweetheart.  If  it  meets  your  ap- 
proval, the  avowal  shall  be  made  to-morrow." 

*'You  are  the  best  judge,  my  lord,  whether  the  step  be 
prudent,  and  whether  you  are  in  a  position  to  brave  your 
brother's  anger,  for  I  suppose  nothing  has  occurred  to  cause 
a  change  in  his  sentiments.  To  me  it  must  naturally  be 
agreeable  to  have  an  end  put  to  mystery  and  concealment 
foreign  to  my  character  and  feelings;  but  I  am  content  to 
continue  as  I  am  for  some  time  longer,  rather  than  you  should 
incur  the  slightest  risk  from  the  lord  protector  and  the 
council.  Satisfied  that  I  am  bound  to  you  by  sacred  ties, 
which  can  never  be  sundered  save  by  death,  I  am  in  no 
hurry  for  the  disclosure. ' ' 

**  Delay  will  not  improve  matters — peradventure,  it  may 
make  them  worse,  * '  he  rejoined.  '  *  The  present  juncture  seems 
favorable  for  the  avowal." 

**  Be  it  as  you  will — you  have  but  to  command.  Yet  I 
again  beg  you  to  put  me  entirely  out  of  the  question,  and 
adopt  only  such  a  course  as  will  be  most  beneficial  to  your- 
self" 

'*  It  is  due  to  your  fair  fame,  Kate,  which  may  suffer,  it  is 
due  to  myself,  and  it  is  due  also  to  the  king,  that  our  mar- 
riage should  no  longer  be  concealed.  My  plan  is  this,  sweet- 
heart. To-morrow,  as  you  know,  I  give  a  f6te  at  Seymour 
House,  and  I  propose  to  make  it  the  occasion  of  introducing 
you  as  my  consort  to  the  king. ' ' 

''But  will  Edward  like  to  be  thus  taken  by  surprise? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  prepare  him  ? ' ' 

**  I  do  not  think  so.     By  making  a  confidant  of  my  royal 


Chap.  X'\         QUEEN  CATHERINE  IN  SECLUSION  309 

nephew,  I  should  still  further  incense  my  brother.  Besides, 
nothing  would  be  gained,  for  it  is  certain  Edward  will  not 
disapprove  of  the  marriage. ' ' 

''Well,  perhaps  you  are  right.  I  will  do  as  you  direct; 
though,  were  I  to  consult  my  own  feelings,  I  would  continue 
this  life  of  retirement,  and  shun  court  gaieties  and  revels, 
which  have  become  distasteful  to  me. ' ' 

' '  Hereafter  you  may  withdraw  into  privacy,  if  you  list, 
Kate,  but  for  the  present  you  must  aid  me  in  the  important 
part  I  have  to  play." 

'  *  Would  you  were  less  ambitious,  Seymour  !  My  chance 
of  happiness,  I  feel,  would  be  greater. ' ' 

* '  Pshaw !  if  I  succeed,  and  raise  myself  to  the  point  at 
which  I  aim,  you  will  have  everything  to  make  you  happy, 
Kate.  If  I  am  all  but  king,  you  will  be  prouder,  happier 
than  you  were  as  the  spouse  of  Henry  VIII. ' ' 

**  'Tis  to  be  hoped  so,  Seymour,"  she  sighed ;  *'  for  I  was 
anything  but  happy  then.  In  good  truth,  I  almost  dread  to 
enter  the  great  world  again.     But  your  will  is  law  with  me." 

''You  are  a  good  and  dutiful  wife,  Kate,"  he  cried,  press- 
ing his  lips  to  her  brow.  "As  I  have  said,  you  can  do  much 
for  me  at  this  moment.  Dorset  has  been  with  me  to-day. 
He  has  just  returned  from  Bradgate.  I  had  some  talk  with 
him  about  his  daughter,  and  he  has  agreed  to  consign  her  to 
your  care  as  soon  as  our  marriage  is  avowed. ' ' 

"Nothing  could  please  me  better,"  replied  Catherine. 
"  The  Lady  Jane  Grey,  as  you  know,  is  an  especial  favorite  of 
mine. ' ' 

"  And  with  good  reason,  sweetheart,  for  she  is  a  paragon 
of  perfection — marvellously  beautiful,  and  marvellously  wise. 
In  due  time,  we  must  provide  a  suitable  husband  for  her. ' ' 

' '  Have  you  not  one  already  in  your  eye,  Seymour  ? ' ' 

'*I  will  not  deny  it,"  he  replied.  "Jane's  merits  are  so 
transcendent  that  I  only  know  one  person  worthy  of  her — my 
royal  nephew ;  and  though  there  are  many  obstacles  in  the 


3IO  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  II 

way,  yet  I  am  certain  the  match  may  be  brought  about.  Ed- 
ward has  conceived  a  kind  of  boyish  passion  for  her;  and 
were  he  to  search  the  world,  he  could  find  no  better  wife  than 
Jane  Grey  would  make  him." 

''That  I  firmly  believe,"  replied  Catherine.  "Jane  is 
wiser  than  women  usually  are — ^virtuous  and  pious — and  would 
be  the  brightest  jewel  in  Edward's  crown.  It  will  delight  me 
to  promote  this  scheme,  because  I  am  sure  that  by  so  doing  I 
shall  further  Edward's  happiness." 

**  You  can  do  him  no  greater  service  than  to  aid  in  procur- 
ing him  such  a  wife — nor  better  serve  your  country  than  in 
giving  it  such  a  queen,"  rejoined  Seymour.  *'  But  I  must  be 
gone,  sweetheart.     A  cup  of  wine,  and  then  adieu  !" 

*'  So  soon  !"  she  exclaimed,  reproachfully. 

*'  It  is  late,  and  I  must  perforce  tear  myself  away.  But  it 
is  a  consolation  to  think  that  it  is  the  last  time  we  shall  need 
to  separate  thus.  To-morrow  you  will  come  to  Seymour 
House  as  a  guest,  but  you  will  remain  as  its  mistress.  Adieu, 
sweetheart ! ' ' 

Tenderly  embracing  her,  he  then  resumed  his  cap  and 
cloak,  and  departed. 

Descending  the  secret  staircase,  he  shortly  afterwards  issued 
from  the  postern,  and  set  off  towards  the  spot  where  his  boat 
awaited  him.  The  night  was  profoundly  dark,  but  notwith- 
standing the  obscurity,  Seymour  fancied  he  perceived  a  figure 
standing  directly  in  his  path.  On  this  he  halted,  but  after  a 
moment's  hesitation  went  on. 

Meanwhile,  the  dark  figure  remained  stationary.  As  the 
admiral  advanced,  he  saw  that  the  personage,  whoever  he 
might  be,  was  not  alone,  but  that  behind  him  were  two  other 
persons,  who,  as  far  as  could  be  discerned  in  the  obscurity, 
were  armed.  Though  he  would  willingly  have  shunned  an 
encounter  at  such  a  moment,  Seymour  was  not  the  man  to 
turn  back.  He  therefore  called  out  to  them,  and  drew  his 
sword. 


Chap.X]         QUEEN  CATHERINE  IN  SECLUSION  311 

** 'Tis  he! — 'tis  the  admiral!"  exclaimed  the  foremost 
personage.      *'  I  am  satisfied.     We  may  retire." 

'*  Not  till  you  have  explained  your  business,"  cried  Sey* 
mour,  springing  upon  him  and  seizing  him  by  the  throat. 

**Take  your  hands  from  me,  my  lord,"  cried  the  person 
he  had  seized,  in  a  stern  voice,  which  was  quite  familiar  to 
Seymour. 

'*How   is   this? — ^my  Lord   of  Warwick  here!"   he  ex 
claimed.     '  *  Has  your  lordship   condescended   to  play  the 
spy?" 

**I  came  here  to  satisfy  myself  concerning  a  report  that 
has  reached  me,"  rejoined  Warwick.  "I  have  seen  enough 
to  satisfy  me  that  what  I  heard  was  correct. ' ' 

* '  Think  not  to  depart  thus,  my  lord, ' '  cried  Seymour. 
**  You  have  chosen  to  pry  into  my  affairs,  and  must  pay  the 
penalty  of  a  detected  meddler.  Either  pledge  your  word  to 
silence,  or  I  will  put  it  out  of  your  power  to  prate  of  what 
concerns  you  not.     Look  to  yourself,  I  say. ' ' 

*  *  I  will  not  balk  you,  my  lord, ' '  rejoined  Warwick,  draw- 
ing his  sword;  '*so  come  on!  Stand  off,  gentlemen,"  he 
added  to  the  others,  who  advanced  towards  him  ;  **  I  can  give 
the  admiral  his  quietus  without  your  aid." 

In  another  instant  his  blade  was  crossed  with  that  of  Sey- 
mour. Both  were  expert  swordsmen,  and  if  there  had  been 
light  enough,  the  conflict  might  have  been  of  some  duration, 
but  the  admiral  pressed  his  antagonist  with  so  much  vigor, 
that  the  latter  stumbled  while  retreating,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  point  of  his  opponent's  weapon  was  at  his  throat. 
The  admiral,  however,  forbore  to  strike. 

**Take  your  life,  my  lord,"  said  Seymour,  stepping  back. 
''Your  sense  of  honor  will  now  keep  your  lips  closed,  and  I 
trust  to  you  to  impose  silence  upon  your  followers. ' ' 

**  Fear  nothing  either  from  them  or  me,  my  lord  admiral," 
replied  Warwick.  **  I  own  I  did  wrong  in  coming  here  at 
all ;  and  having  said  so,  you  will  not  refuse  me  your  hand. '  * 


312  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOPVER  [Book  11 

**  Enough,  my  lord,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  grasping  the 
hand  extended  to  him.  '*  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  at  Seymour 
House  to-morrow  night,  when  all  this  mystery  shall  be  satis- 
factorily cleared.     Till  then,  I  count  upon  your  discretion." 

*'  Doubt  me  not,  my  lord,"  replied  Warwick.  **  I  will  not 
attempt  to  read  your  riddle,  though  I  think  I  could  guess  it. 
Good  night.     My  horses  are  at  the  garden  gate. ' ' 

''And  my  boat  is  yonder — beneath  the  trees.  Good  night, 
my  lord. ' ' 

With  this  they  separated,  the  admiral  speeding  towards  the 
river,  and  Warwick,  with  his  attendants,  shaping  his  course  in 
the  opposite  direction. 

As  he  went  on,  Seymour  muttered  to  himself,  "  I  had 
enough  to  do  to  stay  my  hand  just  now  when  Warwick  lay  at 
my  mercy,  for  I  suspect  him  of  treachery.  Yet  I  did  right  to 
spare  him.  To  have  slain  him  here  would  have  led  to  ill 
consequences.  If  he  crosses  me  again,  I  will  find  other  and 
safer  means  of  dealing  with  him. ' ' 

Warwick's  reflections  were  not  widely  different. 

''But  for  the  cursed  chance  that  caused  my  foot  to  slip, 
I  should  have  slain  him, ' '  he  thought.  '  'And  now  I  owe  my 
life  to  him.  But  I  would  not  have  him  count  too  much  upon 
my  gratitude.  My  hatred  of  him  is  not  a  whit  diminished 
by  his  fancied  generosity — rather  increased.  After  all,  it 
is  well  the  encounter  ended  as  it  did.  Better  he  should 
perish  by  the  headsman's  hand  than  mine." 


Chap.XI'\       FESTiyiTIES  AT  SEYMOUR  HOUSE  313 


CHAPTER  XI 


OF  THE  FETE  GiyEN  AT  SEYMOUR  HOUSE  BY   THE 
LORD  ADMIRAL 

Seymour  House,  the  admiral's  private  residence,  as  we 
have  already  intimated,  was  magnificently  furnished.  Besides 
being  gorgeously  decorated  with  rich  arras  and  embroidered 
stuffs,  the  spacious  apartments  and  galleries  were  crowded 
with  paintings,  statues,  and  works  of  art.  It  was  a  marvel 
that  the  admiral  should  have  been  able  to  collect  together  so 
many  rarities  in  so  short  a  space  of  time ;  but  then,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  had  more  opportunities  of  doing  so  than  other 
people. 

In  those  days  of  display  it  was  the  aim  of  every  wealthy 
nobleman  to  distinguish  himself  by  the  number  of  his  re- 
tainers, all  of  whom  were  clothed  and  maintained  at  his 
expense.  But  the  lord  admiral  went  far  beyond  his  com- 
peers. His  household  was  almost  regal,  and  vied  with  that  of 
the  lord  protector.  He  had  a  high  chamberlain  and  a  vice- 
chamberlain,  both  attired  in  rich  gowns,  and  provided  with 
white  staves,  a  dozen  gentlemen  ushers,  likewise  richly  ar- 
rayed, six  gentlemen  waiters,  three  marshals,  a  chaplain,  an 
almoner,  a  cofferer,  a  clerk  of  the  kitchen  and  clerk  of  the 
spicery,  a  master  cook  and  his  assistants,  besides  a  multitude 
of  yeomen  ushers,  grooms,  cup-bearers,  carvers,  and  sewers. 
In  addition  to  these,  he  had  a  large  body  of  young  gentlemen 
of  good  families,  who  served  him  as  pages  and  esquires,  and 
who  all  wore  his  livery.  Furthermore,  he  had  a  band  of 
tall  yeomen,  armed  and  attired  like  the  yeomen  of  the  king's 
body-guard.  Altogether,  his  household  did  not  number  less 
than  three  hundred  persons.     Tables  were  laid  daily  for  his 


314  7"//E  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 

officers,  who  sat  down  with  almost  as  much  ceremony  as  was 
observed  at  Whitehall.  The  cost  of  such  an  establishment,  in 
all  respects  so  sumptuously  conducted,  may  be  readily  sur- 
mised. But  the  lord  admiral  had  an  object  in  all  this  display. 
He  wished  to  be  regarded  as  the  chief  noble  at  his  royal 
nephew's  court,  so  that  no  position  he  might  hereafter  obtain 
should  seem  too  exalted  for  him. 

With  a  house  thus  splendidly  ordered  and  appointed,  and 
with  such  magnificent  ideas  as  we  are  aware  he  entertained,  it 
will  not  seem  surprising  that  the  f6te  prepared  for  the  king 
and  the  court  by  the  admiral  should  be  on  a  scale  of  extraor- 
dinary splendor. 

All  the  principal  apartments  were  brilliantly  illuminated 
with  wax  tapers.  Attired  in  doublets  of  crimson  velvet,  with 
chains  of  gold  round  their  necks,  and  bearing  white  staves  in 
their  hands,  the  chamberlain,  vice -chamberlain,  steward, 
treasurer,  and  gentlemen  ushers  were  drawn  up  in  the  en- 
trance-hall, ready  to  receive  the  various  important  guests  on 
their  arrival.  Besides  these,  there  was  a  crowd  of  esquires, 
pages,  marshals,  and  grooms,  all  in  rich  liveries,  intermingled 
with  yeomen  bearing  gilt  poleaxes.  But  wherever  the  guests 
wandered — up  the  grand  staircase,  with  its  elaborately  sculp- 
tured posts,  adown  the  long  corridor,  through  the  spacious 
chambers — there  were  other  officers  of  the  household  to  be 
met  with — marshals,  esquires,  pages,  and  grooms,  as  at  White- 
hall. 

Nothing  was  wanting  that  could  minister  to  the  gratification 
of  the  company.  In  an  orchestra  in  the  largest  room,  musi- 
cians were  placed,  and  here  brawls,  galliards,  lavoltas,  pas- 
sameasures,  pavans,  sauteuses,  cushion -dances,  and  kissing- 
dances  were  performed  by  the  company. 

At  a  much  earlier  hour  than  would  be  consistent  with 
modem  arrangements,  the  admiral's  guests,  comprehending 
all  the  principal  personages  of  the  court,  of  both  sexes,  had 
begun  to  arrive,  and  they  had  succeeded  each  other  so  rap- 


Chap.  A-/]        FESTiyiTlES  AT  SEYMOUR  HOUSE  315 

idly,  that  ere  long  the  rooms,  vast  as  they  were,  looked  full. 
But  more  came,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  arrivals  would  never 
cease. 

All  the  guests  were  ceremoniously  received  in  the  great 
entrance-hall  by  the  various  officers  of  the  household,  and 
were  then  ushered  on  by  troops  of  marshals  and  pages  to 
a  presence-chamber,  where  the  lord  admiral,  sumptuously 
arrayed  in  habiliments  of  white  satin,  adorned  with  pearls, 
very  graciously  received  them.  Many  of  the  ladies  wore 
small  visors  of  black  velvet,  while  some  of  them  were  habited 
in  fanciful  attire. 

The  admiral's  manner  to  his  guests  was  extraordinarily  affa- 
ble and  engaging.  He  had  an  eye  for  everyone,  and  dis- 
tributed his  attentions  so  generally,  that  all  were  pleased. 
We  have  already  said  that  he  was  infinitely  more  popular  with 
the  old  nobility  than  the  protector,  and  many  representatives 
of  the  proudest  families  were  present  on  this  occasion  who 
would  not  have  honored  Somerset  with  their  company. 
Moreover,  there  was  a  complete  gathering  of  the  Popish 
party,  and  this  circumstance  tended  to  confirm  the  opinion 
entertained  by  some  that  Seymour  meant  to  league  himself 
with  the  Romanists  in  opposition  to  his  brother. 

Never  had  the  admiral  presented  a  more  superb  appear- 
ance. The  rich  habiliments  in  which  he  was  clad  set  off  his 
symmetrical  person  to  the  utmost  advantage.  Those  who 
contrasted  him  on  this  occasion  with  his  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Somerset,  were  forced  to  admit  that,  so  far  as  personal  ap- 
pearance and  grace  and  captivation  of  manner  were  con- 
cerned, the  younger  Seymour  had  decidedly  the  advantage 
over  the  elder. 

Amongst  the  earliest  comers  were  the  Marquis  of  Dorset, 
with  the  marchioness  and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey,  but  the  rooms 
were  quite  full,  and  the  revel  had  fairly  commenced,  before 
the  arrival  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Somerset.  The  lord 
protector  was  arrayed  in  cloth  of  gold  of  bawdkin,  the  placard 


3l6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOJVER  [Book  U 

and  sleeves  of  his  doublet  being  wrought  with  flat  gold,  and 
the  duchess  was  equally  splendidly  attired.  Her  headgear 
and  stomacher  flamed  with  diamonds  and  precious  stones. 
Somerset  was  attended  by  the  Earls  of  Warwick  and  Arundel, 
both  of  whom  were  splendidly  habited.  The  duke  had  a 
gloomy  look,  and  by  no  means  cordially  returned  the  greet- 
ing given  him  by  the  admiral,  but  passed  on  with  the  duchess 
and  the  lords  in  attendance  upon  him. 

Whatever  annoyance  the  admiral  might  have  felt  at  his 
brother's  deportment  towards  him,  it  was  speedily  dispelled 
by  the  arrival  of  the  king,  whose  manner  was  as  gracious 
as  the  lord  protector's  had  been  cold  and  unpleasant.  Ed- 
ward wore  a  doublet  of  cloth  of  silver,  culponed  with  cloth 
of  gold  of  damask,  and  his  surcoat  was  of  purple  velvet, 
richly  set  with  pearls  and  precious  stones.  When  the  lord 
admiral  had  expressed  his  gratitude  to  his  royal  nephew  for 
the  high  honor  he  had  conferred  upon  him  by  the  visit,  Ed- 
ward graciously  answered,  ' '  We  thank  you  heartily  for  your 
welcome,  gentle  uncle.  But  you  will  have  more  guests  than 
you  counted  on,  for  we  have  brought  with  us  two  fair  ladies, 
who  wished  to  be  present  at  your  assembly.  Have  we  taken 
too  great  a  freedom  with  you  ? ' ' 

**  Oh,  sire  !"  exclaimed  the  admiral.  **  My  house,  and  all 
within  it,  are  at  your  Majesty's  disposal." 

**Here  they  are,"  cried  the  king,  pointing  to  two  ladies 
close  behind  him,  both  of  whom  were  wrapped  in  loose  cloaks 
of  black  satin,  and  wore  black  velvet  visors  on  their  faces. 
*'  Can  you  guess  who  they  are  ?  " 

**  I  will  essay,  sire,"  cried  the  admiral,  advancing  towards 
them.  '*By  my  halidom!"  he  continued,  ''I  am  highly 
honored.  This  fair  lady,  or  I  am  much  mistaken,  must  be 
her  Highness  the  Princess  Elizabeth ;  and  this,  if  I  err  not,  is 
Mistress  Ashley." 

''You  are  right,  gentle  uncle,"  cried  the  king,  laughing. 
**  Nay,  there  is  no  need  for  further  concealment.     The  ad- 


Chap.XI'\       FESTIVITIES  AT  SEYMOUR  HOUSE  317 

miral  has  found  you  both  out,  so  you  may  e*en  take  off  your 
masks. '  * 

* ''  We  did  not  intend  to  discover  ourselves  for  the  present 
to  your  lordship,  *  *  said  Mistress  Ashley,  removing  her  visor, 
**but  his  majesty  has  spoiled  our  plan.'* 

**1  knew  my  uncle  would  be  right  glad  to  see  you  both, 
and  therefore  I  would  not  delay  his  gratification,**  rejoined 
Edward. 

*'  Your  Majesty  has  judged  well,"  said  the  admiral.  *'  Will 
not  your  Highness  unmask?  "  he  added  to  Elizabeth. 

"  Since  his  majesty  commands  it,  I  must  needs  obey,**  she 
replied,  removing  her  visor,  and  revealing  a  countenance 
covered  with  blushes. 

Elizabeth  looked  very  beautiful.  She  was  exquisitely  attired 
in  a  dress  of  white  damask  embroidered  with  pearls,  and  her 
golden  tresses  and  dazzlingly  fair  complexion  produced  all 
their  former  effect  upon  the  admiral. 

"  I  knew  not  you  had  returned  to  court,  princess,"  he  said, 
*'  or  I  should  have  craved  the  honor  of  your  company  at  my 
poor  supper. '  * 

"I  am  here  by  the  king's  commands,'*  replied  Elizabeth. 
"  I  am  but  newly  returned  from  Hatfield.  His  majesty  was 
resolved,  it  seems,  that  I  should  be  present  at  your  fdte. '  * 

'*I  am  greatly  beholden  to  him,"  replied  Seymour.  *' I 
did  not  deem  my  revel  would  be  so  richly  graced.  Will  it 
please  you  to  walk  on,  and  see  the  rooms  ? ' ' 

**  Right  willingly,"  the  king  replied.  '*You  term  your 
revel  a  '  poor  supper,*  gentle  uncle.  To  my  mind,  'tis  a  very 
goodly  entertainment.  We  could  scarce  match  it.  What 
think  you  of  the  assembly,  Elizabeth  ?  *  * 

'*  'Tis  very  splendid,"  she  replied.  "  You  have  princely 
notions,  my  lord  admiral. '  * 

'*  I  once  had,"  he  rejoined,  in  a  low  tone,  "  but  they  are 
gone."  While  Edward  was  gracefully  acknowledging  the 
obeisances  of  those  who  respectfully  drew  back  to  allow  him 


3l8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBookU 

passage,  his  eye  suddenly  alighted  on  the  Marchioness  of 
Dorset  and  her  daughter,  and  the  color  mounted  to  his 
cheeks. 

"That  should  be  the  Lady  Jane  Grey!**  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  did  not  expect  to  meet  her.'* 

'*I  will  not  pretend  that  I  meditated  a  surprise  for  your 
Majesty,"  replied  the  admiral,  smiling  ;  **but  I  am  right  glad 
that  my  Lord  of  Dorset's  return  from  Bradgate  has  enabled 
me  to  include  his  daughter  among  my  guests.  * ' 

*'  By  our  Lady  !  I  am  right  glad,  too,**  rejoined  the  king. 

At  a  sign  from  the  admiral,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  here  ad- 
vanced, and,  with  a  profound  obeisance,  presented  the  mar- 
chioness and  his  youthful  daughter  to  the  king.  As  the  latter 
made  a  lowly  reverence  to  him,  Edward  raised  her,  and  de- 
taining her  hand  as  he  spoke,  said  : 

**  We  looked  to  pass  a  pleasant  evening  with  our  uncle,  but 
it  will  be  pleasanter  far  than  we  expected,  since  it  is  graced 
by  your  presence,  fair  cousin.** 

*' Your  Majesty  is  too  good,**  she  replied,  blushing  deeply. 

**  Nay,  you  must  stay  with  us,"  cried  Edward,  detaining 
her.  "We  cannot  part  with  you  so  soon.  But  it  maybe 
you  desire  to  dance  ? '  * 

"  I  never  dance,  my  liege,'*  replied  Jane.  "It  is  a  pas- 
time in  which  I  care  not  to  indulge.** 

"Perchance  you  object  to  it?'*  said  Edward,  looking  in- 
quiringly at  her. 

"  Not  exactly,"  she  rejoined ;  "but  I  hold  it  to  be  some- 
what vain  and  frivolous. '  * 

"  I  do  not  think  I  will  dance  again,'*  said  Edward. 

"  A  very  praiseworthy  resolution,  sire  !"  cried  the  admiral ; 
"  but  I  hope  you  will  not  interdict  such  of  your  less  seriously 
inclined  subjects  as  may  see  no  harm  in  it  from  indulging  in 
the  recreation.  May  I  venture  to  claim  your  Highness' s  hand 
for  the  couranto  which  is  just  about  to  commence  ?  "  he  added 
to  Elizabeth. 


Chap.Xl'^       FESTiyiTIES  AT  SEYMOUR  HOUSE  319 

"I  will  dance  the  couranto  with  you  with  pleasure,  my 
lord,"  replied  the  princess.      *'  I  have  a  passion  for  it." 

And  she  accorded  her  hand  to  the  admiral,  who  led  her 
towards  the  middle  of  the  room,  while  the  hautboys  struck 
up,  and  they  were  soon  engaged  in  the  animated  dance. 
Elizabeth  danced  with  remarkable  grace,  as  did  the  admiral, 
and  their  performance  excited  universal  admiration.  At  its 
close,  Seymour,  unable  to  resist  the  witchery  still  exercised 
over  him  by  the  princess,  led  her  towards  a  side  chamber, 
where  they  could  converse  without  interruption. 

**  Have  you  quite  forgiven  me,  princess?"  he  said. 

*'0h  yes,"  she  replied,  with  a  forced  laugh.  **I  have 
forgotten  what  passed  between  us." 

''Would  I  could  forget  it!"  cried  Seymour.  *'But  I 
have  been  properly  punished.  I  did  not  deserve  the  happi- 
ness which  might  have  been  mine." 

"Do  not  renew  the  subject,  my  lord,"  said  Elizabeth. 
'*  You  never  loved  me  !  " 

"Never  loved  you!"  he  exclaimed,  passionately.  And 
then  suddenly  checking  himself,  he  added,  '  *  You  do  me  an 
injustice,  princess.     I  loved  you  only  too  well." 

"If  I  could  believe  this,  I  might  forgive  you,"  she  said. 
"But  your  subsequent  conduct  has  been  inexplicable.  You 
have  attempted  no  explanation — have  sent  me  no  letter. ' ' 

"  I  thought  explanation  would  be  unavailing — that  you  had 
cast  me  off  forever, ' '  rejoined  Seymour,  in  a  troubled  tone. 

"But  at  least  the  attempt  might  have  been  made,"  she 
said,  in  a  tone  of  pique.  "You  could  not  tell  what  might 
happen  till  you  tried." 

"Do  you,  then,  give  me  a  hope?"  he  cried,  rapturously. 
"  But  I  forget  myself,"  he  added,  moodily. 

"You  think  me  still  angry  with  you,"  said  the  princess. 
"  But  you  are  mistaken.  I  have  reasoned  myself  out  of  my 
jealousy.  How  is  it  that  the  queen-dowager  is  not  here 
to-night?" 


320  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  iBookll 

"  She  will  be  here  anon,"  replied  Seymour,  gloomily. 

*'  Oh,  she  is  expected,  then  ?  "  cried  Elizabeth.  "  Do  you 
still  nourish  the  ambitious  projects  you  once  entertained,  my 
Lord  Admiral  ?  " 

**I  am  as  ambitious  as  ever,  princess,"  he  rejoined,  ve- 
hemently, and  almost  sternly;  ^'but  I  have  lost  that  which 
would  have  been  the  chief  reward  of  my  struggle. ' ' 

**How  know  you  that?"  she  rejoined.  *' If  you  make 
no  effort  to  regain  what  you  have  lost,  the  fault  rests  with 
yourself. '  * 

''Princess!"  exclaimed  Seymour,  in  a  voice  trembling 
with  emotion,  "  you  drive  me  to  despair.  You  revive  all  my 
passion.     Yet  it  must  be  crushed. ' ' 

**But  I  do  not  bid  you  despair,"  said  Elizabeth.  *'  I  am 
half  inclined  to  forgive  your  perfidy,  provided  you  swear 
never  to  deceive  me  in  future." 

**  No  more,  I  pray  you,  princess,"  cried  Seymour.  **  You 
tear  my  very  heart  asunder.  I  love  you  better  than  life.  For 
you  I  would  give  up  all  my  ambitious  projects,  for  you  I 
would  sacrifice  every  earthly  object.     And  yet — " 

**What  remains?"  exclaimed  Elizabeth.  "But  I  will 
trifle  with  you  no  longer.  Your  manner  convinces  me  that 
you  really  love  me,  and  I  will  therefore  own  that  you  still  re- 
main master  of  my  heart. ' ' 

Seymour  could  not  control  the  impulse  that  prompted  him 
to  seize  Elizabeth's  hand,  and  press  it  fervently  to  his  lips; 
but  he  repented  as  soon  as  he  had  done  so,  and  let  it  drop. 

*' This  torture  is  beyond  endurance,"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
can  bear  it  no  longer. ' ' 

**What  is  the  matter?"  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  cannot  speak,"  he  replied.  "You  will  know  all  anon. 
Pity  me  !  pity  me  !  ' ' 

**  In  Heaven's  name,  calm  yourself,  my  lord,  or  you  will 
attract  attention  to  us,"  said  Elizabeth.  "  What  means  this 
extraordinary  agitation  ?     What  has  happened  ?  ' ' 


Chap.  XII '\  THE  MARRIAGE  AmOUNCED  321 

'*  Question  me  not,  princess.  I  cannot  answer  you,"  re- 
plied Seymour.  ''Think  the  best  you  can  of  me — think 
that  I  ever  have  loved  you — that  I  ever  shall  love  you.  * ' 

With  this,  he  respectfully  took  her  hand,  and  led  her  into 
the  crowded  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN  WHAT  MANNER  THE  LORD  ADMIRAL'S  MARRIAGE  IVITH 
THE  QUEEN  WAS  ANNOUNCED 

Meanwhile,  the  lord  protector,  accompanied  by  the  Earl 
of  Warwick,  continued  to  walk  through  the  apartments, 
noting  their  splendor  with  a  jealous  eye.  Perceiving  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind,  Warwick  sought  still  further  to 
inflame  his  anger. 

'*What  thinks  your  Highness  of  this  fete?"  he  asked. 
**  'Tis  a  sumptuous  affair.  The  lord  admiral  will  ruin  himself 
if  he  gives  many  such. ' ' 

* '  His  prodigality  is  unbounded, ' '  cried  Somerset. 

**Yet  he  has  an  object  in  it,"  pursued  Warwick.  **He 
would  have  all  eyes  turned  on  him  as  towards  the  rising  sun. 
Your  Highness  will  do  well  to  be  on  your  guard,  for  you  may 
rest  assured  that  all  this  display  is  only  part  of  a  deep-laid 
scheme  to  supplant  you.  Do  you  not  note  how  your  brother 
has  gathered  round  him  all  those  of  the  old  nobility  who  are 
known  to  be  unfriendly  to  your  Highness  ?  Do  you  not  see 
that  he  is  trying  to  propitiate  the  Romish  party  ?  With  what 
intent  are  Gardiner  and  Tunstal  here  ? ' ' 

*'  His  design  is  plain  enough.     But  I  fear  him  not." 

"Your  Highness  had  best  not  be  too  confident.     Do  not 
let  him  strengthen  himself  too  much,  or  he  may  become  too 
powerful  for  you. ' ' 
21 


322  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  It 

*'  I  would  deprive  him  of  his  post  at  once,"  cried  Somerset, 
"but  he  has  so  much  influence  with  the  king  that  such  a  step 
might  be  dangerous.  I  must  have  an  excuse  for  severity. 
But  let  us  to  his  majesty.  Dorset,  I  see,  has  returned  with  my 
lady  marchioness  and  his  daughter. ' ' 

"  The  king  seems  wondrously  fond  of  the  Lady  Jane  Grey. 
Mark  how  he  hangs  upon  her  words,  and  what  a  lover-like 
attitude  he  assumes !  Dorset,  I  am  sure,  persuades  himself  his 
daughter  will  one  day  be  Queen  of  England. ' ' 

*  *  If  he  indulges  any  such  notion  he  will  find  himself  mis- 
taken. But  the  king  is  too  young  to  have  any  such  thoughts 
as  yet." 

*  *  Others  may,  though  he  has  not, ' '  replied  Warwick. 
With  this,  they  moved  on  to  that  part  of  the  chamber  where 

Edward  was  standing  with  the  Lady  Jane  Grey.  The  young 
monarch  was  so  engrossed  by  his  fair  companion  that  he 
scarcely  noticed  the  lord  protector's  approach. 

'*Your  Majesty  appears  much  interested,"  observed  Som- 
erset, dryly. 

'*  I  cannot  fail  to  be  by  my  fair  cousin's  discourse,"  Edward 
replied.  **  I  tell  her  that  we  cannot  part  with  her  again  ;  that 
if  my  lady  marchioness,  her  mother,  returns  to  Bradgate,  she 
must  remain  with  some  lady  of  our  court.  Her  Grace  of 
Somerset  will  take  charge  of  her — will  you  not,  dear  aunt  ?  ' ' 

*' With  the  greatest  pleasure,  sire,  if  her  mother  chooses  to 
confide  her  to  me,"  rejoined  the  duchess. 

"  Her  mother  will  scarce  like  to  part  with  her;'*  interposed 
the  lord  protector,  coldly. 

*'I  am  infinitely  obliged  to  your  Grace,"  said  the  mar- 
chioness, ''but  I  have  other  designs  for  her." 

*'  What  other  designs  ?  "  cried  Edward,  quickly.  '*  Not  to 
take  her  away,  I  hope  ?  ' ' 

'*  No,  sire,  not  to  take  her  away — ^but  the  fact  is,  another 
exalted  personage,  whom  I  am  not  permitted  to  name,  has 
undertaken  to  take  charge  of  her. ' ' 


Otap.  XII]  THE  MARRIAGE  ANNOUNCED  323 

"Hum!  what  means  this?"  muttered  Somerset,  suspi- 
ciously. *'Why  is  he  so  anxious  that  the  Lady  Jane  should 
remain  at  court?  Have  they  contrived  to  put  some  foolish 
thoughts  into  his  head?  We  shall  see.  I  have  some  news 
for  your  Majesty,"  he  added,  aloud.  "You  will  have  a 
war  on  your  hands  ere  long.  The  Scots  refuse  to  ratify  the 
treaty  of  marriage  between  your  Highness  and  their  infant 
queen." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it, ' '  cried  Edward. 

' '  Then  your  Majesty  desires  war  ? ' '  observed  Somerset. 

' '  Not  so ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  tied  by  any  treaty,  and 
I  am  glad,  therefore,  that  it  is  at  an  end. ' ' 

"  But  it  will  be  enforced,"  cried  the  protector,  "  and  then 
your  Majesty  must  needs  abide  by  it." 

' '  Must  abide  by  it ! "  exclaimed  Edward.  *  *  By  my  faith, 
it  seems  that  the  treaty  is  to  be  forced  upon  me  as  well  as  the 
young  Queen  of  Scots.  But  I  happen  to  have  a  will  of 
my  own,  and  in  this  instance  I  shall  exercise  it.  Whatever 
your  Highness  may  think  of  it,  I  will  not  be  bound  by  this 
treaty. ' ' 

'*  Sire  !  "  exclaimed  the  lord  protector. 

"  Make  the  war  if  you  please,  and  use  this  treaty  as  a  pre- 
text, if  you  are  so  minded,  but  do  not  expect  me  to  betroth 
myself  to  Mary  Stuart." 

"Amazement !"  exclaimed  Somerset.  "  I  can  scarce  credit 
what  I  hear." 

At  this  moment  the  admiral  came  up  with  the  Princess' 
Elizabeth. 

"  Oh  !  you  are  come,  gentle  uncle,"  cried  Edward.  "  Give 
me  your  opinion.  Is  it  right  I  should  be  affianced  to  one 
whom  I  have  never  seen  ? ' ' 

"I  pray  your  Majesty  to  excuse  me,"  returned  the  ad- 
miral, evasively.  "  'Tis  a  question  I  would  rather  not 
answer. ' ' 

"Then  I  will  answer  it  myself,"  said  the  king.      "  'Tis  a 


324  TtiE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOJVER  [Book  H 

self-sacrifice  I  am  not  called  upon  to  make.  I  will  never 
plight  my  faith  to  one  whom  I  should  not  care  to  wed. ' ' 

*  *  Such  a  resolve  is  worthy  of  you,  sire,  and  I  cannot  but 
applaud  it,"  cried  the  admiral. 

''Your  Majesty  will  think  differently,  I  am  persuaded, 
when  the  time  comes  for  decision,"  remarked  the  protector. 
''Meantime,  your  august  father's  instructions  will  be  carried 
out,  and  the  fulfilment  of  the  treaty  enforced  by  the  sword. ' ' 

"  These  matters  are  too  grave  for  an  occasion  like  the 
present,  and  must  be  reserved  for  a  more  fitting  opportunity, ' ' 
said  the  admiral. 

A  seasonable  interruption  was  here  offered  by  an  usher, 
who  announced  the  queen -dowager,  and  immediately  after- 
wards Catherine  appeared,  accompanied  by  her  brother,  the 
Earl  of  Northampton.  She  was  attired  in  white  cloth  of 
tissue,  and  her  head-gear  was  garnished  with  a  triple  row  of 
orient  pearls.  Advancing  to  meet  her,  and  with  a  profound 
obeisance,  the  admiral  took  her  hand,  and  led  her  slowly 
towards  the  king.  They  were  preceded,  however,  by  the 
Earl  of  Northampton,  who,  inclining  himself  reverently  be- 
fore Edward,  said : 

' '  Sire,  it  is  no  longer  as  the  widow  of  your  august  father, 
that  my  sister.  Queen  Catherine,  appears  before  you,  but  as 
the  bride  of  your  uncle.  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley. ' ' 

"The  admiral's  bride!"  exclaimed  Edward,  in  astonish- 
ment, while  the  utmost  surprise  was  manifested  by  all  who 
heard  the  announcement. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  became  pale  as  death,  and  with 
difiiculty  repressed  a  cry. 

' '  You  are  not  jesting  with  us,  we  trust,  my  lord  ? ' '  said 
Edward  to  Northampton. 

"  Nay,  my  liege,  his  lordship  has  advanced  nothing  more 
than  the  truth,  as  I  can  certify, ' '  said  the  Marquis  of  Dorset ; 
"for  I  was  present  at  the  ceremony,  which  took  place  in  St. 
Peter's  Chapel  in  the  Tower  about  a  month  ago,  though  I 


Chap.  XII "]  THE  MARRIAGE  ANNOUNCED  325 

have  hitherto  kept  silence  on  the  subject,  being  bound  to 
secrecy. ' ' 

"As  was  the  case  with  myself,  sire,"  cried  Northampton. 
*'  I  pray  you  pardon  me." 

"  Why  do  they  hesitate  to  approach  us?  "  said  Edward. 

*  *  Sire,  they  dare  not  enter  your  presence  till  assured  of 
your  forgiveness,"  replied  Northampton. 

''Tell  them  they  have  it,"  replied  the  king. 

This  joyful  intelligence  being  communicated  to  the  admiral 
and  his  consort,  they  came  forward  hand  in  hand,  and  made  a 
profound  reverence  to  the  young  monarch. 

**Sire,"  said  Lord  Seymour,  *'I  here  present  to  you  my 
bride,  and  we  both  entreat  your  forgiveness  for  having  kept 
our  marriage  secret  from  you." 

*'You  might  have  trusted  me,  methinks?"  rejoined  Ed- 
ward, with  a  gracious  smile. 

'  I  have  not  forfeited  your  good  opinion  by  the  step  I  have 
taken,  I  trust,  sire?"  said  Catherine. 

'*  By  no  means,  madam,"  rejoined  Edward,  kissing  her  on 
the  brow,  and  raising  her.  **  You  have  an  additional  title  to 
our  regard.  We  only  blame  you  for  not  confiding  in  us  from 
the  first.  However,  we  will  not  chide  you.  You  are  freely 
and  fully  forgiven." 

These  gracious  words  overwhelmed  the  admiral  and  his 
bride  with  gratitude. 

Meanwhile  the  protector  looked  on  with  lowering  brows. 
Seeing  his  brother  about  to  present  his  consort  to  him,  he 
turned  to  move  away,  but  the  king  detained  him. 

*'I  pray  your  Highness  to  remain,"  he  said.  "Nay,  I 
command  it,"  he  added,  authoritatively. 

On  this  the  protector  stopped.  Turning  to  the  admiral, 
he  thus  addressed  him  in  a  stem  tone  : 

"You  have  been  guilty  of  great  presumption,  my  lord,  and 
though  his  majesty,  who  is  too  young  to  judge  your  indecor- 
ous conduct  properly,  has  graciously  pardoned  you,  do  not 


326  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  11 

expect  like  leniency  from  me.  By  taking  me  by  surprise  you 
hoped  to  avert  the  full  force  of  my  displeasure,  but  you  will 
gain  nothing  by  the  expedient. '  * 

**  I  am  sorry  to  have  offended  your  Highness,"  rejoined 
the  admiral,  with  mock  humility,  *'but  since  I  have  his 
majesty's  pardon,  I  must  endeavor  to  bear  the  weight  of  your 
displeasure. ' ' 

*'You  will  have  to  answer  to  the  council  for  what  you 
have  done,"  cried  Somerset,  furiously. 

'*  I  shall  be  ready,  whenever  required,  to  give  an  account 
of  my  actions, ' '  replied  Seymour,  proudly. 

"  And  I  trust  the  lords  of  the  council  will  also  hear  my  ex- 
planation," said  Catherine,  *'ere  they  censure  the  choice  I 
have  made. ' ' 

*'  They  will  not  censure  you,  madame,  since  they  know  my 
pleasure,"  said  the  king,  with  great  dignity.  **  In  this  matter 
your  Highness  will  allow  me  to  judge, ' '  he  added  to  the  lord 
protector.  *'  If  I  do  not  disapprove  of  the  marriage  between 
my  father's  widow  and  my  uncle,  I  see  not  why  you  should 
condemn  it  so  strongly,  or  reprimand  him  so  sharply.  The 
lord  admiral  is  as  near  to  me,  and  as  dear  to  me,  as  your 
Highness — perchance  dearer — and  he  shall  not  want  my  sup- 
port. So  your  Grace  will  look  to  it — you  will  look  to  it,  I 
say." 

Uttered  in  a  tone  and  with  a  gesture  forcibly  recalling  the 
manner  of  the  late  king,  these  words  did  not  fail  to  produce 
an  effect  on  Somerset. 

*'Ay,  look  to  it,  brother — look  to  it,  you  had  best,"  re- 
peated Seymour,  derisively. 

"  Let  the  harmony  of  this  meeting  be  no  more  disturbed," 
pursued  Edward.  *'  It  is  our  sovereign  will  and  pleasure  that 
the  marriage  of  our  uncle  the  lord  admiral  with  her  majesty 
the  queen  be  no  further  questioned  or  discussed.  We  approve 
it.     Let  that  suffice." 

On  this  emphatic  declaration  on  the  part  of  the  young 


Chap.  XII 1  THE  MARRIAGE  ANNOUNCED  327 

monarch,  there  was  a  loud  burst  of  applause,  and  many  who 
had  held  aloof  pressed  eagerly  forward  to  offer  their  congratu- 
lations to  the  admiral.  Seeing  that  the  tide  was  running  too 
forcibly  against  him  to  be  resisted,  Somerset  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  turn  round,  but  he  did  so  with  an  ill  grace. 

**  Since  your  Majesty  will  have  it  so,  I  must  yield,"  he. 
said.  **  But  I  should  have  ill  discharged  my  duty  had  I  not 
remonstrated.  One  thing  is  quite  certain,  that  the  admiral 
would  never  have  obtained  my  consent,  nor  that  of  the  coun- 
cil, to  the  alliance. ' ' 

**  It  is  well,  then,  that  he  did  not  ask  it,"  remarked  Ed- 
ward, with  a  smile.  '*  But  since  you  refer  to  the  council,  we 
will  have  the  opinion  of  some  of  them  without  more  ado. 
How  say  you,  my  lords  ? "  he  said  to  several,  who  were 
standing  nigh — '*  do  you  blame  my  lord  admiral  for  his  mar- 
riage ?  Do  you  blame  him,  my  lord  of  Warwick  ? — or  you, 
my  lord  of  Arundel  ? ' ' 

'*  So  far  from  blaming  him,  my  liege,  I  give  him  infinite 
credit  for  what  he  has  done,"  said  Warwick.  **  I  would  the 
chance  had  been  mine  own. ' ' 

*'  He  has  gained  a  prize  of  which  he  may  well  be  proud," 
added  Arundel. 

' '  What  says  Sir  John  Gage  ? ' '  demanded  Edward,  of  the 
Constable  of  the  Tower,  who  stood  near  him. 

**  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  marriage,  since  it  meets 
with  your  Majesty's  approval,"  replied  Sir  John.  **  The  lord 
admiral  is  bold  and  fortunate. ' ' 

**  Are  there  any  dissentient  voices?"  inquired  the  king. 

**  None,  sire — none  !"  cried  the  rest  of  the  council. 

'*  That  is  well,"  said  Edward.  *'  But  we  must  leave  noth- 
ing undone.  Where  is  our  sister  ?  Oh  !  you  are  here.  Will 
you  not  offer  your  congratulations  to  the  queen,  Elizabeth  ? ' ' 

Seymour  did  not  venture  to  raise  his  eyes  towards  the 
princess  as  this  request  was  made. 

**  With  all  my  heart,  sire,"  replied  Elizabeth,  who  by  this 


328  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Booh  U 

time  had  entirely  recovered  her  composure  ;  **  I  congratulate 
her  majesty  and  the  lord  admiral  on  their  union.  Her  high- 
ness, I  am  persuaded,  could  not  have  found  a  better  or  more 
devoted  husband  ;  while  on  his  part  the  admiral  may  justly 
esteem  himself  the  most  fortunate  of  men. ' ' 

Catherine  next  received  the  congratulations  of  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Dorset  and  the  Lady  Jane  Grey.  After  a  brief 
converse  with  them,  she  turned  to  the  king,  and  said,  *'  When 
your  Majesty  honors  me  with  a  visit,  you  will  always  have  a 
companion  of  your  own  age. ' ' 

**  How  so,  madam  ?  "  inquired  Edward. 

*'  Because  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  is  henceforth  to  be  my 
daughter,"  replied  Catherine.  **Her  mother  has  consented 
to  place  her  under  my  custody. ' ' 

**  I  am  right  glad  to  hear  it,"  exclaimed  the  king.  '*  Your 
Ladyship  could  not  have  done  better,"  he  added  to  the 
marchioness. 

**The  lord  admiral  is  to  be  her  guardian,  and  to  have  the 
disposal  of  her  hand  in  marriage,  if  it  meets  with  your  Maj- 
esty's approval,"  observed  Dorset. 

'*Nay,  my  lord  marquis,  you  are  the  best  judge  in  the 
matter,"  replied  Edward  ;  ''and  if  you  choose  to  consign  so 
precious  a  charge  to  him,  I  cannot  object  to  it. " 

'*The  admiral  to  be  her  guardian,  and  have  the  disposal 
of  her  hand!"  muttered  Somerset.  ''I  now  see  why  the 
duchess's  offer  was  declined.     'Tis  a  preconcerted  scheme." 

At  this  moment,  an  usher,  accompanied  by  the  chamber- 
lain and  vice-chamberlain,  with  several  other  officers  of  the 
household,  bearing  white  wands,  ceremoniously  approached 
the  admiral,  and  informed  him  that  the  supper  was  served  in 
the  banqueting-chamber. 

**Will  it  please  your  Majesty  to  proceed  thither?"  said 
Seymour. 

Edward  bowed  a  gracious  assent,  and  tendering  his  hand  to 
the  queen,  said,  ' '  Let  us  conduct  you  to  it,  madam. ' ' 


Chap.  Xlin        SEYMOUR'S  PASSION  REVIVES  329 

"  Is  this  as  it  should  be?*  *  said  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  aside 
to  her  lord.      **  Ought  she  now  to  take  precedence  of  me?  " 

'*  Seek  not  to  contest  the  point,"  he  rejoined.  **  Ere  long 
her  pride  shall  be  lowered." 

Trumpets  were  sounded  as  the  king  entered  the  banquet- 
hall  with  the  queen-dowager.  A  cloth  of  state,  embroidered 
with  the  royal  arms,  was  placed  over  the  seat  assigned  to  his 
majesty.  On  his  right  sat  the  queen -dowager,  and  on  the 
other  side  the  lord  protector.  Special  care  was  taken  by 
the  admiral  that  the  Lady  Jane  Grey  should  be  placed  oppo- 
site the  king. 

The  supper  was  magnificent,  and  was  marked  by  the  same 
unbounded  luxury  and  prodigality  that  had  distinguished  the 
whole  entertainment.  Though  the  guests  were  very  numer- 
ous, all  were  well  served.  The  admiral  himself  waited  upon 
the  king. 

When  the  surnap  had  been  removed,  and  spices  and  wafers 
were  placed  before  the  guests,  the  chief  usher  called  out  with 
a  loud  voice  that  the  king  drank  to  the  health  of  his  host  and 
hostess,  and  desired  that  all  would  join  him  in  the  toast. 
The  proposal  was  received  with  acclamations.  Every  goblet 
was  instantly  drained,  and  the  hall  resounded  with  shouts  of 
*'  Long  live  the  Lord  High  Admiral  and  the  Queen  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII 


HOW  THE  ADMIRAL'S  PASSION  FOR  THE  PRINCESS  ELIZA- 
BETH IVAS  REVIVED 

Much  additional  importance  was  given  to  the  lord  ad- 
miral by  his  marriage  with  the  queen -dowager,  though  the 
suddenness  with  which  it  followed  the  king's  death  caused 
considerable  scandal.     Many  allowances,  however,  were  made 


33©  THE  CONST/iBLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  II 

for  the  queen.  It  was  felt  that  her  existence  during  the  latter 
days  of  the  king's  life  must  have  been  wretched — that  his 
tyranny  was  almost  intolerable — ^and  that  if  she  had  made  too 
speedy  use  of  her  freedom,  she  could  scarcely  be  blamed. 
Moreover,  the  strong  support  given  by  Catherine  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Reformed  faith,  and  the  risk  she  had  incurred  for 
them  in  the  late  king's  life,  operated  in  her  favor.  Her  con- 
duct was,  therefore,  viewed  in  the  best  light  possible,  and 
though  such  haste  to  forget  him  was  not  very  flattering  to  the 
king's  memory,  still  it  was  quite  intelligible.  Had  not 
Henry  himself  set  the  example  of  hasty  marriages?  No 
wonder  his  widow  should  marry  again  so  soon  as  she  had  the 
opportunity. 

The  admiral  continued  his  magnificent  mode  of  life,  but 
Catherine,  who  had  had  enough  of  splendor,  did  not  pass 
much  of  her  time  at  Seymour  House,  but  made  Chelsea 
Manor-House  her  chief  abode.  Having  the  Lady  Jane  Grey 
now  under  her  care,  she  soon  became  as  much  attached  to 
her  as  if  she  had  been  her  own  daughter ;  while  on  her  part 
the  Lady  Jane  repaid  her  by  almost  filial  affection.  Jane's 
character  was  well  suited  to  Catherine,  who,  studious  and  de- 
vout herself,  could  not  fail  to  admire  these  qualities  in  her 
charge.  At  his  uncle's  invitation  the  young  king  was  a 
frequent  visitor  to  Chelsea  Manor-House,  sometimes  proceed- 
ing thither  in  his  barge,  sometimes  riding  thither  with  the 
admiral.  The  frequency  of  these  visits  soon,  however,  alarmed 
the  lord  protector,  who  put  a  stop  to  them  altogether. 

But  though  the  admiral  was  engrossed  with  ambitious 
designs  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other  consideration, 
and  though  he  was  bound  to  banish  such  a  feeling  from 
his  breast,  the  fatal  passion  for  Elizabeth,  which  had  been 
suddenly  revived  by  the  discovery  he  had  made  that  she 
yet  loved  him,  still  tormented  him,  and  would  not  be  dis- 
missed. To  do  him  justice,  he  made  strong  efforts  to  shake 
it  off.     In  spite  of  himself,  however,  he  could  not  help  insti- 


Chap.XIII'i         SEYMOUR'S  PASSION  REyiyES  331 

tuting  comparisons  between  her  youthful  attractions  and  the 
waning  charms  of  the  queen.  Then,  Catherine's  grave  and 
sedate  manner,  as  contrasted  with  the  liveliness  of  Elizabeth, 
appeared  to  disadvantage.  The  golden  tresses  of  the  prin- 
cess, which  he  had  so  much  admired,  were  as  much  a  snare  to 
him  as  ever.  In  short,  he  began  to  feel  that  he  had  never 
really  loved  the  queen,  whom  he  had  made  his  wife,  while  he 
was  desperately  in  love  with  Elizabeth.  As  every  month 
flew  by,  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  princess  acquired  fresh 
charms.  Her  eyes  appeared  brighter,  her  complexion  more 
radiantly  fair,  her  locks  more  like  sunbeams  than  ever. 

Happy  in  the  possession  of  the  husband  she  loved,  Cath- 
erine had  long  since  forgotten  her  jealousy  of  Elizabeth  ;  and 
when  the  admiral  proposed  that  the  princess  should  stay  with 
them  for  a  while  at  Chelsea,  she  readily  acceded  to  the 
arrangement.     Elizabeth  was  invited,  and  came. 

She  came  attended  by  her  governess.  Mistress  Ashley.  If 
the  queen  had  forgotten  the  past,  Elizabeth  did  not  appear  to 
remember  it.  But,  in  reality,  she  remembered  it  only  too 
well.  She  had  no  more  been  able  to  conquer  her  love  for 
the  admiral  than  he  had  been  able  to  subdue  the  passion  with 
which  she  had  inspired  him.  But  if  such  were  the  state 
of  her  feelings,  why  should  she  expose  herself  to  so  much 
risk?  Why,  indeed?  As  well  ask  the  moth  why  it  rushes 
into  the  destructive  flame  !  Elizabeth  was  as  little  mistress 
of  herself  as  the  infatuated  insect.  Persuading  herself  that 
the  best  way  to  become  indifferent  to  the  admiral  was  to 
renew  her  intimacy  with  him,  she  went  to  Chelsea. 

The  result  naturally  to  be  expected  from  a  step  so  impru- 
dent, soon  followed.  Instead  of  finding  her  passion  for  the 
admiral  decrease  she  perceived  that  it  gained  fresh  ardor, 
while  on  his  part  Seymour  became  more  desperately  enam- 
ored than  ever.  Constantly  thrown  together,  it  was  impos- 
sible they  could  be  blind  to  each  other's  feelings.  Again,  as 
in  days  gone   by,  when   he   was  bound   by  no  sacred   ties, 


332  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  II 

the  admiral  began  to  breathe  words  of  love  :  again,  forgetting 
the  wrong  she  was  now  doing  another,  Elizabeth  listened  to  him. 
Unconscious  of  what  was  going  on,  unaware  that  she  was 
allowing  her  own  happiness  to  be  undermined,  Catherine, 
instead  of  checking  it,  foolishly  encouraged  this  dangerous 
intimacy.  Incapable  of  levity  herself,  she  could  perceive  no 
harm  in  her  husband's  attentions  to  the  princess. 

But  if  the  queen  was  thus  unobservant  and  unsuspicious, 
there  were  others  who  were  more  quick-sighted,  and  who  saw 
clearly  enough  how  matters  stood,  and  among  these  was  Ugo 
Harrington,  who  ventured  to  remonstrate  with  his  lord  on  the 
dangerous  passion  he  was  indulging,  expressing  his  opinion 
that  if  an  end  was  not  put  to  the  love  affair,  it  must  be  found 
out  by  the  queen,  and  the  discovery  would  lead  to  fearful 
consequences. 

*' Would  I  could  undo  what  I  have  done,  Ugo,"  cried  the 
admiral.  <*  Would  I  were  free  once  more  !  It  was  by  thy 
advice  that  I  wedded  the  queen  so  precipitately.  Madman 
that  I  was  to  listen  to  thy  counsel !" 

'*  Yet  the  counsel  was  good,  and  I  will  uphold  it/*  replied 
Ugo.  *'  Your  highness  is  far  better  off  than  you  would  have 
been  if  you  had  married  the  princess.  The  queen  has  given 
you  wealth,  power,  position,  but  the  princess  would  have 
brought  you  little  more  than  her  charms  of  person.  Nay,  she 
might  have  caused  your  downfall. ' ' 

' '  But  I  love  her  so  desperately  that  I  would  almost  barter 
my  soul  to  obtain  her,"  pursued  Seymour.  **She  engrosses 
all  my  thoughts,  and  puts  to  flight  all  my  projects.  Turn 
which  way  I  will,  her  image  stands  before  me.  My  love  for 
her  makes  Catherine  hateful  to  me." 

'*  Her  majesty  ought  to  excite  other  feelings  in  your  breast. 
She  is  a  good  and  loving  wife. ' ' 

**  I  say  not  a  word  against  her,  but  she  is  in  the  way  of 
my  happiness,  and  therefore,  if  I  could,  I  would  have  her 
removed. ' ' 


Chap.  XIWI         SEYMOUR'S  PASSION  REViyES  333 

*'  Removed  !"  echoed  Ugo.  *'  Is  it  come  to  this  already? 
Scarce  six  months  married,  and  you  are  anxious  to  be  unwed. 
You  seem  as  quickly  tired  of  your  consort  as  King  Henry 
was  of  his  spouses,  but  he  had  means  of  getting  rid  of  them 
which  your  Highness  will  scarcely  be  able  to  put  in  practice. 
Therefore  you  must  bend  to  circumstances,  and  wear  your 
chains  as  lightly  as  you  can.  They  will  gall  you  less  if  you 
do  not  think  about  them.  If  I  may  presume  to  say  so,  you 
allow  the  princess  to  exercise  too  much  influence  over  you. 
You  are  too  much  with  her.  Abstain  from  her  society.  De- 
vote yourself  to  your  affairs  with  your  former  energy.  Break 
through  these  silken  meshes  that  enthral  you,  and  be  yourself 
again." 

''Thou  art  right,  Ugo  !"  cried  the  admiral.  "  I  am  be- 
witched. My  sole  chance  of  safety  is  in  flying  from  the  sor- 
ceress who  has  cast  her  spells  over  me.  But  it  will  cost  a 
terrible  effort. " 

"Cost  what  it  may,  the  effort  must  be  made,"  said  Ugo. 
' '  Console  yourself  with  the  reflection  that  a  time  may  come 
hereafter  when  you  may  wed  the  princess.  Some  unforeseen 
circumstance  may  occur — the  queen  may  be  suddenly  carried 
off.  In  Italy  our  princes  work  in  a  different  manner  from  the 
late  king.  They  do  not  strike  with  the  axe,  but  the  blow  is 
no  less  effectual,  though  dealt  more  silently." 

''I  comprehend  thy  dark  suggestions,"  said  the  admiral; 
**but  I  will  have  naught  to  do  with  thy  damnable  Italian 
practices. ' ' 

"  Nay,  my  lord,  I  had  no  thought  of  suggesting  poison  to 
you,  but  if  you  grow  tired  of  waiting " 

'*No  more  of  this!"  interrupted  Seymour,  sternly,  '*or 
thou  wilt  forever  forfeit  my  favor. '  * 

"I  pray  your  Highness  to  forgive  me  if  I  have  offended 
you,  and  set  it  down  to  my  devotion." 

"Leave  me!"  exclaimed  Seymour,  fiercely.  "Thou  hast 
roused  the  furies  in  my  breast.      I  would  be  alone." 


334  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 

Without  a  word,  Ugo  bowed  and  retired ;  but  as  he  was 
passing  out  of  the  door,  he  cast  a  look  at  the  admiral,  and 
saw  him  fling  himself  into  a  chair,  and  cover  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

' '  Notwithstanding  all  his  pretended  dislike  to  the  deed,  he 
will  do  it, ' '  he  muttered. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

HOW  THE  LORD  ADMIRAL  SUPPLIED  HIS  ROYAL  NEPHEW 
WITH  MONEY 

Could  Lord  Seymour  have  been  content  with  the  exalted 
position  he  had  now  attained,  he  might  have  lived  happy  and 
honored,  but,  consumed  by  an  insatiable  ambition,  which 
would  not  let  him  rest,  he  continued  his  intrigues  as  actively 
as  ever. 

Alarmed,  at  length,  by  his  evident  design  to  monopolize 
the  young  king's  affections,  and  engross  his  confidence,  the 
lord  protector  carried  into  effect  his  oft-repeated  threat,  and 
strictly  prohibited  any  personal  intercourse  between  him  and 
his  royal  nephew.  This  order,  which  was  rigorously  enforced, 
was  a  heavy  blow  to  Seymour ;  but  he  found  means  of  defeat- 
ing it  to  a  certain  extent,  and  contrived  to  keep  up  a  secret 
correspondence  with  Edward,  through  the  agency  of  Fowler, 
who,  though  much  trusted  by  the  protector,  was  in  reality  in 
the  admiral's  pay. 

Furtive  visits  were  frequently  paid  by  the  gentleman  of  the 
privy-chamber  to  Seymour  House.  One  morning  he  pre- 
sented himself  at  an  unusually  early  hour,  but  though  the 
admiral  at  the  time  was  engaged  on  his  toilette,  he  ordered 
him  to  be  instantly  admitted. 


Chap.  Xiy^     SEYMOUR'S  PURSE  AIDS  THE  KING  335 

'*  Give  you  good  day,  Fowler/'  he  exclaimed  as  his  secret 
agent  was  shown  into  the  room.  '*I  am  right  glad  to  see 
you.  Do  you  bring  me  any  message  or  letter  from  his 
majesty  ?  " 

'  ^  Only  this  short  missive,  your  Highness, ' '  replied  Fowler, 
bowing  as  he  handed  him  a  small  slip  of  paper. 

' '  Faith,  '  tis  brief  enough  ! ' '  exclaimed  the  admiral.  ' '  *  Let 
Fowler  have  what  money  he  needs' — thus  runs  it.  How 
much  dost  thou  require  ? ' ' 

' '  For  myself  I  require  nothing, ' '  replied  the  gentleman  of 
the  privy-chamber.  **  But  his  majesty  hath  immediate  need 
of  two  hundred  pounds. ' ' 

'  *  He  shall  have  it,  and  more  if  it  be  wanted, ' '  replied  the 
admiral.  '*  Ugo  will  furnish  thee  with  the  amount.  By  my 
soul,  the  lord  protector  keeps  his  majesty  very  bare  ! ' ' 

*'The  king  hath  but  little  in  his  purse  save  what  comes 
from  your  Highness,"  remarked  Fowler.  '*  If  he  asks  for 
money,  he  is  always  put  off  on  some  plea  or  other.  I  never 
lose  an  opportunity  of  contrasting  your  Highness' s  generosity 
tvith  the  niggardliness,  if  I  may  so  venture  to  term  it,  of 
the  lord  protector.  I  say  to  his  majesty  thus  :  *  Sire,  you 
would  be  well  off  if  you  had  your  younger  uncle,  the  lord  ad- 
miral, for  your  governor.  His  highness  hath  an  open  hand,, 
and  would  never  stint  you  as  your  elder  uncle  doth,  and  you 
would  then  have  wherewithal  to  reward  your  men  hand- 
somely.' " 

**  And  what  said  the  king  to  that,  Fowler  ? ' '  demanded  the 
admiral.      * '  What  said  he  to  that  ? ' ' 

''  He  answered  that  he  should  be  right  glad  your  lordship 
should  be  made  his  governor,  but  he  feared  the  thing  was  im- 
possible. Whereupon,  I  told  him  he  might  bring  it  about  if 
he  set  to  work  in  earnest." 

' '  And  so  he  can — and  so  he  shall,  good  Fowler.  Said  he 
anything  further?" 

' '  Not  much,  your  Highness.     To  speak  truth,  I  think  his 


336  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOH^ER  [Book  11 

majesty  is  afraid  of  the  lord  protector,  who  waxes  very  violent 
if  his  will  be  opposed.  Were  he  to  find  out  that  I  gave  any 
secret  information  to  your  Highness,  I  should  not  only  lose 
my  post,  but  be  clapped  in  the  Fleet. ' ' 

**  Act  warily.  Fowler,  and  thou  need'st  be  under  no  appre- 
hension. But  as  some  risk  must  needs  be  run,  thy  reward 
shall  be  proportionate.  While  receiving  the  money  for  my 
royal  nephew,  take  another  hundred  pounds  for  thyself. ' ' 

* '  Oh  !  your  Highness,  that  is  too  much  for  any  slight  ser- 
vice I  can  render  you.  'Tis  true  I  never  lose  sight  of  your 
interests,  and  whenever  a  word  can  be  said  in  your  behalf  I 
fail  not  to  utter  it." 

'^  Dost  think  thou  canst  procure  me  a  secret  interview  with 
his  majesty  to-morrow.  Fowler  ?  ' ' 

*' 'Twill  be  very  difficult,"  rejoined  the  other;  '*for,  as 
your  Highness  is  aware,  the  lord  protector  has  given  strict 
orders  to  all  the  household  that  admittance  shall  be  denied 
you.  But  perhaps  it  may  be  managed.  I  will  send  you  word 
by  a  faithful  messenger. ' ' 

On  this,  with  fresh  expressions  of  gratitude,  Fowler  then 
took  his  leave.     But  he  did  not  go  away  empty-handed. 

At  a  later  hour  in  the  day,  while  the  admiral  was  alone  in  his 
cabinet,  Ugo  entered,  followed  by  Xit.  Smiling  at  the  dwarf '  s 
consequential  manner,  Seymour  demanded  his  business. 

'*  My  message  is  for  your  Highness' s  private  ear,"  replied 
Xit,  glancing  at  Ugo. 

Upon  this,  Seymour  signed  to  his  esquire,  who  immediately 
withdrew. 

**  Now,  knave,  what  hast  thou  to  tell  me?  "  demanded  the 
admiral. 

'*  His  majesty  will  see  your  Highness  to-morrow  evening, 
but  you  must  condescend  to  come  by  the  back  staircase.  I 
will  be  there  to  open  the  private  door  in  the  gallery  for  you. ' ' 

''The  plan  will  do  well  enough,"  observed  Seymour. 
**  What  hour  hath  his  majesty  appointed? " 


Chap.  ^/K]     SEYMOUR'S  PURSE  AIDS  THE  KING  337 

' '  The  hour  of  nine, ' '  replied  the  dwarf.  ' '  Your  Highness 
may  rely  on  my  punctual  attendance. ' ' 

**  Art  thou  to  be  trusted,  knave?"  said  the  admiral,  look- 
ing hard  at  him. 

*'  My  discretion  hath  never  been  questioned,"  replied  Xit, 
proudly.  * '  I  would  your  Highness  would  put  it  to  the 
proof." 

'*  Thou  art  much  with  the  king — ha  ?  '  * 

'*  Constantly  in  attendance  upon  him,  your  Highness." 

"  In  what  terms  doth  his  majesty  speak  of  me?  Fear  not 
to  tell  me,  I  shall  not  be  offended  with  the  truth. '  * 

''The  truth,  in  this  instance,  cannot  be  otherwise  than 
agreeable  to  your  Highness,  since  his  majesty  speaks  of  you 
in  terms  of  the  utmost  affection. ' ' 

'*I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  smiling. 
* '  Doth  he  speak  in  the  same  terms  of  the  lord  protector  ? ' ' 

*'Hum!  not  quite,  your  Highness,"  replied  the  dwarf, 
hesitating. 

''Speak  out,  without  fear,"  cried  the  admiral. 

"  Well,  then,  his  majesty  complains  that  he  is  very  scantily 
supplied  with  money,  owing  to  which  he  is  unable  to  reward 
his  men,  as  he  desires  to  do,  for  any  slight  service  they  may 
render  him." 

"Such  as  thy  present  errand,"  observed  the  admiral. 
"  However,  thou  shalt  have  no  reason  to  complain  in  this  in- 
stance.    Take  this  as  coming  from  the  king. ' ' 

And  he  tossed  him  a  purse,  which  Xit  caught  with  the 
dexterity  of  a  monkey_,  weighing  it  in  his  hand,  and  feasting 
his  eyes  upon  its  glittering  contents. 

"It  is  not  the  only  purse  that  shall  find  its  way  to  thy 
pouch,  if  thou  attendest  carefully  to  my  instructions,"  said 
the  admiral. 

"  Your  Highness  has  but  to  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do,"  re- 
plied Xit,  securing  the  purse  within  his  doublet. 

"  I  do  not  desire  thee  to  play  the  spy  upon  my  royal 
22 


338  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  U 

nephew,  for  such  an  office,  I  know,  would  be  repugnant  to 
thee,  but  I  would  have  thee  use  thine  eyes  and  ears,  and 
bring  me  the  intelligence  they  furnish  thee  withal.  'Tis  im- 
portant to  me  to  know  precisely  how  the  king  is  affected 
towards  me — and  towards  the  lord  protector."  The  latter 
part  of  the  speech  was  uttered  with  a  certain  significance, 
which  was  not  lost  upon  the  quick-witted  dwarf. 

'*  I  understand  the  part  I  am  to  play,"  he  said,  '*  and  will 
discharge  it  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  I  will  bring  up  your 
Highness' s  name  as  often  as  I  can  before  his  majesty,  and 
never  without  the  commendation  to  which  it  is  so  justly  en- 
titled ;  while,  if  I  cannot  speak  quite  so  highly  of  the  lord 
protector,  it  is  because  his  merits  are  not  made  equally  clear 
to  me." 

''Thou  art  a  shrewd  little  fellow,"  observed  the  admiral, 
laughing,  ''and  hast  more  wit  in  thee  than  falls  to  the  share 
of  many  a  larger  man.  Commend  me  to  his  majesty  and  say 
that  I  hope  ere  long  to  arrange  all  to  his  satisfaction." 

"  I  will  not  fail,"  replied  Xit. 

And  with  a  ceremonious  bow  he  retired. 

As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone,  the  admiral  wrote  down  sev- 
eral names  upon  a  slip  of  paper,  after  which  he  summoned 
Ugo  by  striking  upon  a  small  bell. 

"Let  all  the  persons  mentioned  in  this  list  be  convened 
here  at  noon  to-morrow. ' ' 

"  It  shall  be  done,  your  Highness,"  replied  Ugo,  glancing 
at  the  paper. 


Chap.  A'K]        THE  ADMIRALS  LETTER  COPIED  339 


CHAPTER  XV 

HOW  THE  ADMIRAL'S  LETTER  IVAS  COPIED  BY  THE  KING 

From  what  has  been  narrated  in  the  previous  chapter,  it 
will  be  seen  that  the  state  of  subjection  in  which  the  young 
king  was  kept,  and  the  total  want  of  deference  paid  to  his  in- 
clinations and  requests,  had  gradually  alienated  his  affections 
from  his  elder  uncle.  Edward's  great  desire  was  now  to 
emancipate  himself  from  the  lord  protector's  guardianship, 
and  this  object  he  hoped  to  accomplish  by  the  admiral's 
help.  With  this  view,  the  letter  to  the  Houses  of  Parliament, 
complaining  of  his  grievances,  was  concocted.  Fowler,  to 
whom  the  draft  of  the  intended  address  was  intrusted,  waited 
till  the  king  retired  to  his  cabinet,  arid  then  delivered  it  to 
him,  saying  that  it  came  from  the  admiral,  and  that  if  his 
majesty  approved  it  on  perusal,  he  was  to  transcribe  it  and 
sign  it. 

*'  Let  me  look  at  it.  Fowler,"  replied  Edward,  opening  the 
paper,  and  scanning  its  contents.  '' 'Tis  well  worded,"  he 
added,  ''and  I  do  not  think  my  request  can  be  refused." 

*'  I  hope  not,"  rejoined  Fowler.  ''All  will  be  well  if  the 
admiral  should  be  appointed  your  guardian.  Ah,  how  dif- 
ferent he  is  from  your  Majesty's  elder  uncle  !  The  one  is  all 
affability  and  condescension, — ^generous,  kindly,  and  noble; 
the  other,  austere,  severe,  rapacious,  and  parsimonious. ' ' 

' '  Nay,  Fowler,  you  must  not  malign  the  lord  protector, ' ' 
said  Edward. 

"  I  do  not  malign  him,  my  gracious  liege, ' '  replied  Fowler. 
"  I  speak  nothing  but  the  truth.  But  I  cannot  bear  to  see 
your  Majesty  thus  treated.  With  the  lord  admiral  you  would 
not  be  kept  in  this  sort  of  durance,  only  allowed  to  go  forth 


340  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  II 

at  stated  times,  and  in  a  stated  manner,  deprived  of  all  pleas- 
ant companionship,  and  compelled  to  study,  study,  study,  till 
your  brain  must  be  quite  addled." 

''Nay,  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  good  Fowler,"  rejoined 
Edward ;  ''but  in  sooth  I  begin  to  find  the  life  I  lead  some- 
what wearisome.  There  is  a  strange  contrariety  in  the  lord 
protector's  disposition  for  which  I  cannot  account.  He 
seems  to  delight  in  thwarting  my  inclinations.  If  I  prefer 
a  request,  I  am  certain  to  have  it  refused.  If  I  would  do  one 
thing,  he  would  have  me  do  another.  If  I  would  go  here,  he 
makes  me  go  there.  He  refuses  me  money,  because  he  says 
I  am  too  lavish  with  it.  Every  day  some  new  restriction 
is  placed  upon  me,  till,  if  this  system  be  continued  much 
longer,  I  shall  have  no  power  whatever  left. " 

"That  is  quite  certain,"  remarked  Fowler. 

"At  what  hour  shall  I  see  the  admiral  to-morrow  night. 
Fowler?" 

"At  nine  o'clock,  your  Majesty.  He  is  to  be  introduced 
by  the  back  staircase  as  soon  as  your  chaplain  and  tutors 
have  left  you.  It  may  be  well  to  copy  the  letter  before- 
hand." 

"I  will  transcribe  it  at  once,"  rejoined  the  king.  "  Stay 
with  me  while  I  do  it." 

With  this,  Edward  sat  down  to  a  desk  on  which  writing 
materials  were  placed,  and  was  engaged  in  the  task,  when 
Xit  suddenly  entered,  and  called  out  in  a  warning  voice  that 
the  lord  protector  was  close  at  hand. 

"  If  he  sees  this  letter  I  am  undone  !"  exclaimed  Edward, 
in  alarm.      "  Where  shall  I  hide  it  ?  " 

"  Give  it  to  me,  sire,"  cried  Fowler,  snatching  the  papers, 
and  thrusting  them  into  his  doublet.  Scarcely  was  this 
accomplished,  when  the  Duke  of  Somerset  abruptly  entered 
the  closet.  Without  troubling  himself  to  make  more  than 
a  slight  obeisance,  he  looked  sternly  and  inquiringly  at  his 
royal  nephew. 


Chap,  Xy'\        THE  ADMIRAL'S  LETTER  COPIED  341 

'*  Your  Majesty  appears  confused,"  he  said. 

**I  may  well  be  so  when  your  Highness  enters  thus  un- 
ceremoniously," rejoined  Edward. 

*'  I  would  not  suffer  the  henchmen  to  announce  me,"  said 
Somerset,  **  because  in  a  hasty  visit  like  the  present,  form 
may  be  dispensed  with.  I  have  only  a  few  words  to  say 
to  your  Majesty." 

"  Be  pleased  to  say  them,  then,"  rejoined  Edward. 

*'What  I  have  to  say  relates  to  the  lord  admiral.  I  am 
told  he  is  much  offended  because  I  will  not  allow  him  to 
approach  your  Majesty. ' ' 

*'Your  Highness  can  scarcely  be  surprised  at  that.  I 
hope  you  are  come  to  tell  me  that  you  have  removed  the 
interdiction." 

**  On  the  contrary,  I  regret  that  it  will  be  necessary  to 
adopt  measures  yet  stricter.  No  more  letters  must  be  written 
by  your  Majesty  to  your  uncle,  nor  any  from  him  be  de- 
livered.    D'  ye  mark  me  ?  "  he  added  to  Fowler. 

**  Perfectly,  your  Highness,"  replied  the  gentleman  of  the 
privy-chamber,  bowing. 

"See,  then,  that  my  injunctions  are  strictly  obeyed," 
cried  Somerset,  sternly. 

* '  Why  this  additional  severity  ? ' '  inquired  Edward.  '  *  What 
has  my  uncle  done — ^what  have  I  done,  to  deserve  it  ?  " 

*'  Certain  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the  lord  admiral  have 
given  umbrage  to  the  council,"  rejoined  Somerset,  *'and 
unless  he  attends  to  their  admonitions  it  will  fare  hardly  with 
him.  For  the  present,  as  I  have  said,  I  must  forbid  all  cor- 
respondence between  him  and  your  Majesty. ' ' 

"  I  would  your  Highness  showed  more  brotherly  love 
towards  my  uncle,"  observed  Edward. 

"I  show  him  more  love  than  he  deserves,"  rejoined  Som- 
erset.     "  I  now  take  my  leave  of  your  Majesty." 

And  he  quitted  the  chamber. 

"By  my  father's  head,  I  will  not  be  treated  thus!"  ex- 


342  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  11 

claimed  Edward,  stamping  on  the  ground  with  rage.  '*  He 
deems  me  a  child,  but  he  shall  find  I  have  the  spirit  of  a  man. 
I  will  submit  to  this  usage  no  longer. ' ' 

*'I  am  glad  to  hear  your  Majesty  say  so,"  cried  Fowler. 
**  Maintain  that  bearing  with  him,  and  he  must  give  way." 

'*To  tell  me  to  my  face  that  I  must  not  write  to  my 
uncle,"  cried  Edward,  pacing  quickly  to  and  fro.  "But  I 
will  write — I  wi7/  see  him.  Moreover,  I  wt7/  see  my  cousin 
Jane,"  pursued  the  king,  continuing  to  pace  about.  *'  I  am 
more  than  half  inclined  to  go  to  Chelsea  to-day." 

* '  Do  nothing  hastily,  I  implore  you,  sire,  or  you  may  re- 
gret it,"  cried  Fowler.  "You  have  much  to  anger  you,  I 
grant;  but  by  acting  in  direct  opposition  to  the  lord  pro- 
tector's commands,  you  will  seem  to  justify  his  conduct.  Wait 
till  you  have  seen  the  lord  admiral  to-morrow  night,  and  be 
guided  by  his  counsel."  ' 

"Thou  art  right,  Fowler,"  said  Edward,  checking  himself. 
"  I  must  act  with  prudence,  or  I  shall  damage  my  own  cause, 
and  give  the  lord  protector  the  advantage.  I  will  do  nothing 
till  I  have  seen  the  admiral.  Meanwhile,  I  will  prepare  for 
him.  Give  me  the  papers  that  I  may  complete  the  transcript 
of  the  letter." 

With  this,  he  again  sat  down  to  his  task,  and  finished  it 
without  further  interruption. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


HOW  THE  ADMIRAL  PROPOSED  TO  LAY  THE  KING^S  GRIEV- 
ANCES BEFORE  PARLIAMENT 

All  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  particularized  in  the 
admiral's  list  assembled  at  Seymour  House  at  noon  on  the 
following  day.     They  were  upwards  of  twenty  in  number. 


Chap.  X^I'\  THE  KING'S  GRIEl^ANCES  343 

and  included  four  members  of  the  council,  namely,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Northampton — ^brother  to  the  queen -dowager, — the 
Earl  of  Arundel,  the  venerable  Lord  Russell,  Sir  William 
Herbert — Seymour's  brother-in-law, — and  Sir  John  Gage. 
Besides  these,  there  were  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  Lord  Clinton,  Sir  George  Blagge,  and  several 
other  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  all  the  latter  being  members 
of  the  Lower  House  of  Parliament.  Not  till  all  had  arrived  did 
the  admiral  make  his  appearance.  His  habiliments  were  of 
black  velvet,  and  he  wore  the  collar  of  the  Garter  round  his 
neck.  After  bowing  to  the  assemblage,  he  thus  addressed 
them: 

''You  marvel,  no  doubt,  why  I  have  sent  for  you,  my 
lords,  but  as  I  would  do  nothing  unadvisedly,  so  I  desire  to 
consult  with  you,  whom  I  know  to  be  my  friends,  before 
taking  a  step,  as  I  conceive,  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
the  welfare  of  the  king's  majesty  and  the  security  of  the 
state.'* 

''Proceed,  my  lord,"  said  Lord  Clinton;  "we  are  ready 
to  listen  to  you,  and  when  made  acquainted  with  your  inten- 
tions will  give  you  the  best  advice  in  our  power. ' ' 

"I  thank  your  lordship,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "Thus, 
then,  stands  the  matter.  I  need  make  no  appeal,  I  am 
persuaded,  to  your  loyalty  and  devotion  to  the  king,  for  I 
know  what  your  feelings  are  towards  him,  and  that  you  are 
ready  to  manifest  them  in  action.  The  time  is  come  for 
such  display,  for  I  here  proclaim  to  you,  loudly  and  boldly, 
that  my  royal  nephew  is  unworthily  dealt  with  by  the  lord 
protector. ' ' 

"This  is  strong  language,  my  lord,"  cried  Lord  Russell. 

' '  My  language  is  not  a  jot  too  strong, ' '  rejoined  the  ad- 
miral. "  I  will  maintain  what  I  have  advanced.  My  affec- 
tion to  my  royal  nephew,  my  duty  to  my  sovereign,  demand 
that  I  should  speak  out.  The  king,  who,  as  you  are  well 
aware,  has  a  wisdom  far  beyond  his  years,  is  treated  like  a 


344  77/^   COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  It 

mere  child — a  puppet.  He  is  denied  all  liberty  of  actiorij, 
shut  up  with  his  tutors,  and  debarred  from  the  society  of 
those  nearest  to  him  in  kin,  and  dearest  in  his  regards.  He 
is  powerless,  as  you  know,  in  the  council,  and  since  the  lord 
protector  hath  provided  himself  with  a  stamp,  even  the  royal 
signature  is  ordinarily  dispensed  with.  But  this  is  not  all. 
His  majesty's  privy  purse  is  so  scantily  and  inadequately  sup- 
plied, that  he  hath  not  wherewithal  to  reward  his  servants.  Is 
this  to  be  endured?  Is  the  son  and  successor  of  the  great 
Henry  VIII.  to  be  thus  scandalously  treated?  " 

*'I  say  no,"  replied  the  Marquis  of  Dorset.  "The  lord 
protector  carries  matters  with  far  too  high  a  hand.  We  have 
a  king,  though  he  be  a  minor.  I  can  confirm  what  the  lord 
admiral  has  just  stated  as  to  the  needless  restriction  placed 
upon  the  king's  society.  He  is  not  allowed  to  choose  his 
own  companions,  and  even  my  own  daughter  is  among  the 
interdicted. ' ' 

'*  I  have  remonstrated  with  my  brother  the  lord  protector," 
continued  the  lord  admiral,  **  but  my  remonstrances  have 
proved  ineffectual.  He  will  listen  to  nothing  I  have  to  say. 
But,  by  Heaven  I  he  s/ia//  hear  me.  I  will  find  a  way  to 
move  him." 

"What  does  your  lordship  propose  to  do?"  demanded 
Lord  Russell. 

"  In  a  word,  I  mean  to  free  my  royal  nephew  from  his 
present  unworthy  thraldom,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "The 
lord  protector  must  no  longer  be  governor  of  his  person.  He 
has  proved  himself  unfit  for  the  office." 

"Whom  would  you  substitute,  my  lord — yourself?"  de- 
manded Sir  John  Gage,  gruffly. 

"Ay,  marry — ^none  were  so  fit,"  cried  the  Marquis  of  Dor- 
set. "  The  lord  admiral  is  his  majesty's  favorite  uncle,  and 
is  in  all  respects  better  suited  to  be  governor  of  his  person 
than  the  stern  and  moody  lord  protector." 

"I  have  searched  old  chronicles  for  precedents,"  pursued 


Chap.  A'K/]  THE  KING*S  GRIEVANCES  345 

the  admiral,  "and  I  find  that  heretofore  the  offices  of  lord 
protector  and  governor  of  the  king's  person  never  have  been 
united  j  neither  can  they  rightly  be  combined.  Thus,  at  one 
time,  there  was  a  protector  of  England  and  a  regent  of 
France,  while  the  Duke  of  Exeter  and  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester were  made  governors  of  the  king,  incontestably  prov- 
ing that  the  offices  ought  not  to  be  conjoined.'* 

**  Do  not  forget,  my  lord,  that  you  voted  for  your  brother's 
appointment  to  both  offices,"  observed  the  constable. 

"Right  sorry  am  I  that  I  did  so,"  rejoined  the  admiral. 
"  'Twas  a  most  ill-judged  act.  But  because  I  have  done 
wrong,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  error  should  not  be  re- 
paired. I  have  shown  you  that  the  Duke  of  Somerset  ought 
no  longer  to  hold  the  office.  You  may  choose  a  better  gov- 
ernor for  his  majesty  than  myself,  but  you  can  choose  no  one 
who  loves  him  better,  or  will  more  studiously  consult  his  wel- 
fare.'* 

"That  we  nothing  doubt,"  remarked  Sir  John  Gage. 
"But  you  may  rely  upon  it,  your  brother  will  never  sur- 
render the  post,  save  on  compulsion — and  to  your  lordship 
last  of  all." 

"The  lord  protector's  unfounded  and  unbrotherly  jealousy 
must  not  be  allowed  to  operate  to  his  majesty's  disadvantage," 
cried  Dorset.  "  No  one  is  so  well  qualified  for  the  post  as 
the  lord  admiral." 

"Have  I  your  support,  then,  my  lords  and  gentlemen?" 
said  Seymour. 

"You  have  mine,  most  heartily,"  cried  Dorset. 

"And  mine  ! — And  mine,"  cried  several  other  voices. 

"  If  the  change  could  be  accomplished  quietly,  I  should 
not  object  to  it,"  observed  Sir  John  Gage;  "but  I  fear  the 
attempt  will  disturb  the  government. ' ' 

"  Is  it  the  king's  desire  that  the  change  should  be  made?  " 
inquired  Lord  Russell. 

"His  earnest  desire,"   replied  the  admiral.     "It  is  his 


346  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  II 

majesty's  design  to  address  a  letter  to  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment on  the  subject. 

**  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Lord  Russell. 

**Ay,  indeed  !"  echoed  the  admiral.  "And  if  you  will  all 
stand  by  me,  we  shall  be  too  strong  for  any  opposition.  I 
have  plenty  of  other  supporters  in  both  Houses  to  make  a 
bruit  about  the  matter. '  * 

"  How  if  you  be  thwarted  in  your  designs,  my  lord  ad- 
miral ? ' '  said  Lord  Clinton. 

*'  I  do  not  think  I  shall  be,"  rejoined  Seymour.  **  But  by 
God's  precious  soul!"  he  continued,  fiercely,  **  if  I  be 
thwarted,  I  will  make  this  the  blackest  Parliament  that  ever 
was  in  England." 

"You  seem  to  threaten  us,  my  lord,"  observed  Lord 
Clinton. 

**  I  pray  you  pardon  me,  my  lord,"  rejoined  the  admiral, 
controlling  himself.  **  I  am  galled  by  the  ill  usage  that  my 
royal  nephew  has  received,  and  spoke  intemperately. ' ' 

'  *  I  am  a  plain,  blunt  man,  as  you  know,  my  lord  admiral, 
and  speak  my  mind  freely,"  observed  the  constable.  "I 
cannot  approve  of  the  course  you  are  about  to  pursue." 

"  Wherefore  not,  good  Sir  John?"   inquired  Seymour. 

'*  'Twere  better,  if  possible,  the  matter  should  be  peaceably 
and  quietly  arranged.  If  publicly  discussed,  it  may  breed 
scandal.  Besides,  in  a  struggle  of  this  nature  with  your 
brother,  you  may  get  the  worst  of  it,  and  if  so,  he  will  not 
spare  you." 

**Give  yourself  no  concern  about  me.  Sir  John,"  said 
Seymour.  "The  lord  protector  hath  more  reason  to  fear 
me  than  I  have  to  fear  him.  And  this  you  will  find.  I  wi'U 
have  the  king  better  ordered,  and  not  kept  so  close  that  no 
man  may  come  near  him." 

'  *  Then  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  an  open  quarrel 
with  your  brother, ' '  said  the  constable. 

**  I  have.  Sir  John,"  replied  the  admiral.     **  His  majesty's 


Chap,  Xyi"]  THE  KING'S  GRIEVANCES  347 

letter  shall  be  laid  before  both  Houses,  and  methinks  there 
are  few  of  his  loyal  subjects  but  will  eagerly  respond  to  it." 

**  Who  will  deliver  the  letter?  "  demanded  Lord  Russell. 

"I  myself,"  replied  the  admiral.  **Some  of  you,  I  per- 
ceive, are  inclined  to  hang  back,  as  if  alarmed  at  the  notion 
of  a  quarrel  with  the  lord  protector.  You  overrate  his 
power.  He  is  not  so  strong  as  you  imagine.  You  will  see 
what  the  result  of  this  step  will  be.  * ' 

"Ay,  ay;  we  shall  see,  and  will  be  guided  by  what 
occurs,"  observed  Lord  Russell. 

**A  prudent  resolution,"  cried  Dorset,  contemptuously, 
**  I  will  stick  by  the  lord  admiral,  whatever  may  betide." 

"And  so  will  we,"  cried  several  voices. 

"I  thank  you  heartily,  my  good  friends,"  rejoined  Sey- 
mour. 

After  some  further  discussion,  the  conference  broke  up. 
While  the  others  were  departing.  Sir  John  Gage  approached 
the  admiral,  and  said : 

*'  'Tis  a  friend's  part  to  warn  you.  You  are  rushing  on  a 
great  peril.  Of  a  certainty  the  lord  protector  will  clap  you 
in  the  Tower!" 

"Tut !  Sir  John ;  he  dares  not  do  it." 

"Ay,  but  if  he  should ,  you  will  find  it  no  easy  matter  to 
get  out." 

"  I  tell  you.  Sir  John,  my  brother  will  not  dare  to  proceed 
to  such  extremities  with  me.  You  may  rest  perfectly  easy  on 
that  score. ' ' 

"Well,  I  have  done  my  best  to  settle  the  matter  peace- 
ably," observed  the  constable.  "  If  ill  comes  of  it,  'tis  not 
my  fault." 

With  this  he  took  his  departure. 

One  person  only  was  now  left,  the  Marquis  of  Dorset. 
Seymour  thanked  him  warmly  for  his  support. 

"  If  I  stood  not  by  your  lordship  at  a  critical  juncture 
like  the  present,  my  friendship  were  worth  little,"  said  Dor- 


348  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  II 

set.  *'  But  I  do  not  think  that  fortune,  that  has  hitherto  fav- 
ored you,  will  desert  you  now." 

**  If  I  am  successful,  as  I  hope  to  be,  you  will  be  a  gainer 
as  well,  marquis.  Meantime,  is  there  anything  I  can  do  for 
you?     You  know  you  can  command  me.'* 

*'Your  lordship  has  already  made  me  very  extensively 
your  debtor.  But,  in  sooth,  I  am  almost  as  much  straitened 
for  money  as  our  young  king  appears  to  be.  I  am  ashamed 
to  allude  to  the  circumstance.  You  will  think  I  am  always 
borrowing  from  you. ' ' 

''I  think  only  of  the  pleasure  of  serving  you,  marquis. 
Will  you  have  five  hundred  more  ? ' ' 

*' You  are  a  great  deal  too  good.  Half  the  amount  will 
suffice." 

'*  Pooh  !  why  divide  so  paltry  a  sum  ?-  Ho  there,  Ugo," 
he  shouted.  *'  Count  out  five  hundred  pounds,  and  let  it  be 
forthwith  conveyed  to  Dorset  House.     Adieu,  marquis." 

* 'Adieu,  my  lord  admiral.     Success  attend  you  !  " 

Shortly  afterwards,  Ugo  was  again  summoned  by  his 
lord. 

*'  I  am  going  upon  a  dangerous  enterprise  to-night,  Ugo," 
said  the  admiral.  *'  If  anything  goes  wrong,  let  this  packet 
be  delivered  instantly  to  the  queen — ^but  not  otherwise.  She 
will  know  how  to  act. ' ' 

"  It  shall  be  done,  my  lord." 

**Take  great  care  of  it,"  repeated  the  admiral.  **My 
safety  may  depend  upon  its  production." 

Ugo  reiterated  his  assurances,  and  withdrew. 


Chap.  XyW]         THE  BROTHERS  RECONCILED  349 


CHAPTER  XVII 


HOW  THE  PROTECTOR  AND  THE  ADMIRAL   IVERE  AGAIN 
RECONCILED 

At  the  appointed  hour  that  night,  the  admiral  was  secretly- 
introduced  into  the  king's  closet.  On  beholding  him  Edward 
sprang  towards  him,  and  embraced  him  most  affectionately. 

*'How  long  it  seems  since  we  met,  dear  uncle!"  he 
exclaimed.  **How  doth  the  queen  your  consort,  and  your 
ward  and  my  sweet  cousin,  the  Lady  Jane  ? ' ' 

"I  will  answer  the  last  question  first,  sire,"  replied  the 
admiral.  '  *  Jane  is  somewhat  delicate,  and  I  half  suspect  she 
is  pining  because  she  is  not  allowed  to  see  your  Majesty. ' ' 

"I  am  equally  unhappy,"  rejoined  Edward.  "But  the 
separation,  I  trust,  will  not  endure  much  longer.  Things 
must  be  changed." 

**  It  is  time  they  were  so,  sire,"  cried  Seymour,  *'for  in 
good  truth,  you  are  not  treated  like  a  king.  Is  it  right  or  fit- 
ting that  I,  your  uncle,  should  be  denied  admittance  to  you, 
and  should  be  compelled  to  approach  you  thus  stealthily?  " 

**  Indeed  it  is  not,  dear  uncle,"  replied  the  king ;  "  and  I 
could  almost  weep  to  think  of  it. ' ' 

**Sire,"  cried  the  admiral,  **I  need  not  say  how  deeply 
devoted  I  am  to  you,  that  I  love  you  as  a  nephew,  that  I 
honor  you  as  a  sovereign,  and  that  I  am  prepared  at  any  time 
to  lay  down  my  life  for  you.  If  the  course  of  action  that  I 
may  advise  you  to  pursue  should  alarm  you,  be  assured  it  is 
dictated  by  the  strongest  feelings  of  regard  for  your  welfare. 
You  are  not  treated  as  becomes  the  son  of  your  august  father. 
With  what  motives  I  will  not  now  pause  to  inquire,  it  is  obvi- 
ous that  the  lord  protector  is  determined  to  deprive  you  of  all 


350  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  {Book  11 

power.  He  excludes  from  you  all  those  who  love  you  and  would 
give  you  good  counsel,  and  places  those  around  you  who  are 
mere  instruments  of  his  own.  You  must  throw  off  this  yoke. 
You  must  learn  to  rule  and  govern  as  other  kings  do. ' ' 

'*  I  am  well  enough  inclined  to  do  so,  dear  uncle,  and  me- 
thinks  I  could  discharge  some  of  my  kingly  functions  fittingly, 
if  I  were  allowed." 

**It  shall  be  mine  to  accomplish  this  for  you,  sire,"  re- 
joined the  admiral.  **  You  have  shown  too  much  submission 
to  your  uncle,  and  piece  by  piece  he  has  stripped  you  of  all 
your  regal  attributes  till  he  has  left  you  the  mere  name  of 
king.  I  say  not  this  to  rouse  your  anger,  but  it  is  the  truth, 
and  you  ought  to  know  it.  While  my  brother  fills  his  own 
coffers  from  the  royal  revenues,  he  will  not  give  you  where- 
withal to  reward  your  men.  And  why  does  he  keep  you 
thus  bare?  Not  from  parsimony,  for  he  can  be  profuse 
enough  when  it  suits  him,  but  because,  by  depriving  you  of 
money,  he  deprives  you  of  power.  Shame  on  him,  I  say  ! 
However,  there  is  one  comfort.  He  is  old,  and  cannot  last 
long." 

**  Would  he  were  dead  !  "  exclaimed  Edward.  **  No,  that 
was  a  wicked  wish, ' '  he  added,  checking  himself,  *  *  and  I  am 
sorry  I  gave  utterance  to  it. " 

**  I  am  not  surprised  you  wish  him  gone,"  rejoined  the  ad- 
miral. **  As  long  as  he  remains  at  the  head  of  affairs  you 
will  have  no  authority,  and  should  he  be  alive  and  in  his 
present  position  when  your  minority  ceases  you  will  have 
some  trouble  in  assuming  your  own. '  * 

"But  that  is  a  long  time  off,  good  uncle,"  observed  Ed- 
ward. "Meantime  I  would  be  king,  and  not  the  mere 
puppet  I  am  made. ' ' 

**In  good  truth,  your  Majesty  is  but  a  beggarly  king — 
almost  an  object  of  pity  to  your  household." 

*'  Pitied  by  my  household  !  "  cried  Edward.  "  Am  I  re- 
duced so  low  as  that  ?  " 


Chap.  Xl^ in         THE  BROTHERS  RECONCILED  351 

''The  lord  protector  has  brought  it  to  this  pass  by  his 
arts/'  cried  Seymour.  *'  And  so  long  as  your  Majesty  is  con- 
tent, it  will  continue,  if  not  become  worse." 

''Worse  it  can  scarce  become,"  rejoined  Edward.  "But 
how  am  I  to  free  myself?     What  is  to  be  done  ? ' ' 

"While  the  Duke  of  Somerset  continues  governor  of  your 
person,  nothing  can  be  done,"  said  the  admiral.  "The  first 
step  is  to  remove  him  from  the  office.  To  this  the  council 
will  never  consent  unless  strong  pressure  is  brought  to  bear 
upon  them,  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  parliament.  Have 
you  copied  that  letter,  of  which  I  sent  you  a  draught  by 
Fowler?" 

"I  have — it  is  here,"  replied  the  king,  giving  him  the 
paper.  "  But  will  this  message  be  attended  to,  think  you, 
dear  uncle  ? ' ' 

' '  It  ska//  be  attended  to, ' '  replied  the  admiral.  "  If  I  can 
once  free  you  from  the  lord  protector's  grasp,  all  the  rest  will 
be  easy.  With  me  for  your  governor,  you  shall  indeed  be 
king.  You  shall  not  be  shut  up  like  a  caged  bird,  and  be  de- 
prived of  the  society  of  those  you  love.  No  unnecessary 
restraint  of  any  kind  shall  be  imposed  upon  you.  You  shall 
mingle  as  freely  with  your  subjects  as  your  august  father  was 
wont  to  do.  And  it  shall  be  my  study  to  form  your  character 
on  the  best  and  noblest  model,  so  that  when  you  do  come  to 
reign  you  may  be  a  great  and  good  king. ' ' 

"A  good  king  I  will  be — a  great  king,  if  it  shall  please 
Heaven  to  make  me  one,"  rejoined  Edward.  "They  tell 
me  you  are  not  so  earnest  for  the  Protestant  faith  as  the  lord 
protector,  and  that  you  favor  the  adherents  of  the  old  re- 
ligion. ' ' 

"Who  has  told  you  this,  sire?"   demanded  the  admiral. 

"My  preceptors,"  replied  the  king. 

"  It  is  not  true.  I  am  as  heartily  in  favor  of  the  Reforma- 
tion as  Cranmer  himself,  but  policy  requires  that  I  should 
stand  well  with  the  Romish  party.     But  let  me  once  have  the 


352  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  1 1 

care  of  your  Majesty,  and  you  shall  not  complain  of  any  luke- 
warmness  on  my  part  in  the  cause  of  religious  reform.  The 
queen  my  wife,  and  your  cousin  Jane,  shall  aid  us  with  their 
counsels.** 

"  Nay,  there  cannot  be  a  more  ardent  reformer  than  Jane,'* 
observed  Edward,  smiling.  **  I  pray  you  commend  me  heart- 
ily to  her,  and  to  the  queen  your  consort.** 

"  I  will  not  fail  to  do  so,"  replied  Seymour.  '*  I  trust  your 
Majesty  will  soon  see  them  both  at  Chelsea — or  here.  I  will 
set  about  the  work  to-morrow,  and  let  you  know  how  I 
prosper. ' ' 

With  this  he  was  about  to  retire,  but  ere  he  could  do  so 
he  was  stopped  by  the  sudden  entrance  of  the  lord  protector, 
accompanied  by  the  Earls  of  Warwick  and  Arundel,  Lord 
Russell,  Sir  William  Paget,  and  Sir  John  Gage.  For  a  mo- 
ment the  admiral  was  taken  aback,  but  quickly  recovering 
himself,  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  regarded 
his  brother  with  a  glance  of  defiance. 

'*  Soh  !  you  are  here,  my  lord,  in  direct  defiance  of  my  in- 
junctions," cried  Somerset. 

"  My  uncle  is  here  at  my  request,"  cried  Edward,  throwing 
himself  between  them.      **  I  sent  for  him." 

"Your  Majesty  will  not  be  able, to  screen  him,*'  observed 
Somerset.  "  I  am  too  well  informed  of  his  plots.  He  will 
be  brought  to  account  for  his  treasonable  designs.** 

**  Treasonable  !  "  exclaimed  Edward.  *'Nay,  your  High- 
ness, the  admiral  has  been  guilty  of  no  treason  in  coming  to 
me.** 

"  He  will  have  to  answer  to  the  council  for  what  he  has 
done,"  rejoined  the  protector,  **and  it  will  be  for  them  to 
decide  whether  his  designs  are  treasonable  or  not.  I  charge 
him  with  a  flagrant  disobedience  of  my  commands  and  au- 
thority— with  constantly  laboring  and  studying  to  put  into 
your  Majesty's  head  a  dislike  of  the  government  of  the  realm 
and  of  my  doings.     I  charge  him  with  endeavoring  as  much 


Chap.  Xyil'\         THE  BROTHERS  RECONCILED  353 

as  in  him  lies  to  persuade  your  Majesty,  being  of  too  tender 
years  to  direct  your  own  affairs,  to  take  upon  yourself  the 
government  and  management  of  the  realm,  to  the  danger  of 
your  own  person,  and  the  peril  of  the  whole  kingdom.  Let 
him  deny  those  charges  if  he  can." 

"  I  will  answer  them  at  once,**  replied  the  admiral,  boldly. 
"It  is  no  treason  to  be  here  with  the  king  my  nephew  in  dis- 
obedience to  your  Grace's  mandate.  I  deny  that  I  have 
sought  to  create  a  dislike  of  the  government  in  my  royal 
nephew's  mind ;  but  I  will  not  deny  that  I  have  said  that  his 
affairs  might  be  better  managed,  and  that  he  himself  ought  to 
be  better  ordered — and  that  I  would  do  my  best  to  have  him 
better  ordered." 

"You  are  an  audacious  traitor,  and  glory  in  your  guilt," 
cried  the  protector.  '*  But  you  have  crowned  your  offences 
by  obtaining  a  letter  from  the  king  whereby  you  seek  to 
accomplish  your  object  of  supplanting  me  in  the  governor- 
ship of  the  royal  person.  But  you  will  be  balked  in  your  de- 
sign." 

"What  paper  hath  your  lordship  in  your  hand?"  de- 
manded the  Earl  of  Warwick  of  the  admiral. 

"A  letter  to  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  which  I  myself 
shall  deliver  to-morrow.  *Tis  written  by  his  Majesty,  and 
signed  by  him,  as  ye  may  see. '  * 

"But  drawn  up  by  yourself,"  remarked  Warwick.  "My 
lord,  you  have  done  wrong." 

"In  what  respect?"  cried  the  admiral,  fiercely.  "The 
king  is  dissatisfied  with  the  governor  of  his  person,  and 
would  change  him." 

"Who  has  made  him  so  dissatisfied?"  asked  Warwick. 

"Not  I,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "You  would  seem  to 
infer  that  his  Majesty  cannot  judge  for  himself;  that  he  cannot 
tell  whether  he  is  well  or  ill  ordered ;  that  he  is  willing  to  be 
kept  in  subjection,  to  be  deprived  of  the  society  he  most 
affects,  and  to  be  stinted  in  his  purse.  You  think  he  cannot 
23 


354  77/^  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  11 

find  out  all  these  things  without  my  aid.  But  I  tell  you,  my 
Lord  of  Warwick,  that  his  Majesty  has  found  them  out,  and 
is  determined  to  have  redress,  if  not  from  you,  from  par- 
liament.** 

"My  lord  admiral,  you  will  never  deliver  that  letter,** 
observed  Warwick,  in  a  stem  voice. 

''Your  lordship  is  mistaken,**  rejoined  Seymour. 

* '  In  the  name  of  the  council,  I  command  you  to  give  it  up 
to  his  Highness  the  lord  protector,**  said  Warwick. 

**  What  if  I  refuse?  **  rejoined  Seymour. 

"  We  will  order  your  immediate  arrest,**  said  the  earl. 

**  Sooner  than  surrender  it  to  him  I  will  destroy  it,'*  cried 
the  admiral,  tearing  the  letter  in  pieces. 

'*What  have  you  done,  my  lord?**  cried  the  king, 
alarmed  at  the  proceeding. 

"You  will  destroy  yourself  if  you  go  on  thus,  my  lord,"  ob- 
served Sir  John  Gage,  in  a  low  tone  to  the  admiral.  "  The 
authority  of  the  council  is  not  to  be  braved  with  impunity.  *  * 

"I  am  not  to  be  frightened,  good  Sir  John,**  rejoined 
Seymour,  haughtily.  "I  fear  neither  the  council  nor  the 
lord  protector.     They  will  not  molest  me. '  * 

"I  leave  this  arrogant  and  impracticable  man  in  your 
hands,  my  lords,*'  said  Somerset.  "Act  towards  him  as  ye 
deem  right.'* 

Hereupon,  the  members  of  the  council  deliberated  to- 
gether for  a  short  space,  after  which  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
said  : 

"  Our  decision  is,  that  the  lord  admiral  be  deprived  of 
his  offices,  and  be  committed  to  the  Tower  to  answer  the 
grave  charges  which  will  be  brought  against  him.'* 

"You  cannot  have  so  decided,  my  lords,**  cried  Edward. 
"Your  Highness  will  not  allow  your  brother,  and  my  uncle, 
to  be  sent  to  the  Tower.** 

"  I  cannot  interfere,**  rejoined  Somerset,  in  an  inflexible 
tone. 


Chap.  Xl^W]         THE  BROTHERS  RECONCILED  355 

"  Make  your  submission  at  once,  my  lord,  or  you  are 
lost, ' '  said  Sir  John  Gage,  approaching  the  admiral,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  low  voice. 

**I  am  not  in  such  jeopardy  as  you  deem.  Sir  John,"  re- 
joined Seymour,  confidently.  *' Before  I  am  removed,  will 
your  Highness  grant  me  a  word  in  private  ?  *  *  he  added  to  the 
lord  protector. 

**  I  will  not  refuse  you  a  hearing  if  you  have  aught  to 
allege  in  your  exculpation,"  replied  Somerset,  walking  apart 
with  him. 

**  Now,  what  have  you  to  say?"  he  demanded,  in  a  low, 
stem  tone. 

**  Merely  that  this  decision  of  the  council  must  be  over- 
ruled," replied  the  admiral. 

"Must  be  overruled!"  cried  the  protector,  contemptu- 
ously. 

'*  Ay,  must !  You  will  do  well  to  pause  before  taking  any 
steps  against  me,  for  the  mischief  you  do  me  will  recoil  with 
double  effect  on  your  own  head.  If  I  fall,  I  will  pluck  you 
with  me." 

"Go  to!  you  threaten  idly,"  cried  the  protector^  though 
with  secret  misgiving. 

*'  Not  so,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "  Mark  well  what  I  say, 
brother,"  he  continued,  speaking  very  deliberately,  and  with 
stern  emphasis.  "  I  can  prove  that  all  the  acts  done  by  you 
and  by  the  council  are  illegal  and  of  no  effect.  The  royal 
stamp  was  not  affixed  to  Henry's  will  during  his  lifetime; 
consequently,  the  instrument  is  wholly  inoperative." 

"This  is  a  mere  assertion,  and  will  obtain  credit  from  no 
one,"  cried  Somerset,  feigning  contempt,  but  unable  to  hide 
his  apprehension.      "Its  motive  is  too  obvious." 

"I  have  your  confederate  Butts's  confession  of  the  whole 
affair,  which  shall  be  produced  to  confound  you,"  cried  Sey- 
mour. "  Now,  what  say  you,  brother  ?  Am  I  to  be  deprived 
of  my  offices,  and  sent  to  the  Tower  ?  ' ' 


356  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  li 

**I  thought  the  secret  had  died  with  Butts/*  said  Somer- 
set, trembling  in  spite  of  himself. 

**  No,  it  lives  to  blast  you,*'  rejoined  the  admiral.  "  Know- 
ing that  I  ran  some  risk  to-night,  I  took  the  precaution  of 
placing  the  confession  in  such  hands,  that,  if  aught  befalls 
me,  its  production  will  be  certain.  Send  me  to  the  Tower 
if  you  will.     You  will  speedily  follow  me  thither.** 

Somerset  was  visibly  embarrassed,  and  quailed  beneath  the 
admiral's  looks. 

"Make  up  your  mind  quickly,  brother,"  continued  Sey- 
mour, "  either  for  peace  or  war.  A  word  from  me  will  shake 
your  government  to  pieces.  * ' 

"But  you  will  destroy  yourself  in  uttering  it,"  said  the 
protector. 

"  I  will  take  my  chance  of  that.  In  any  case,  I  am  cer- 
tain of  revenge. ' ' 

At  this  moment,  the  king,  who  had  been  anxiously  watch- 
ing them,  stepped  forward. 

*'  I  hope  your  Highness  relents,"  he  said  to  the  protector. 

**  Let  your  uncle  submit,  and  he  shall  not  find  me  unfor- 
giving," observed  Somerset. 

"Why  should  I  submit?"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "  If  I 
have  erred  at  all,  it  has  been  from  excess  of  devotion  to  your 
Majesty. ' ' 

"For  my  sake,  yield!  **  cried  Edward,  imploringly. 

"Thus  lurged,  I  cannot  refuse,"  replied  the  admiral. 
"Brother,  I  am  content  to  own  myself  in  the  wrong,  and 
to  ask  your  forgiveness. ' ' 

And  he  bent  his  proud  neck  with  an  affectation  of  sub- 
mission. 

"I  am  satisfied,"  rejoined  the  protector.  "  My  lords,"' 
he  added,  turning  to  the  council,  "you  may  blame  my  weak- 
ness. But  I  cannot  proceed  further  against  my  brother.  He 
has  expressed  his  contrition,  and  I  am  therefore  willing  to 
pardon  his  offence,  and  beseech  you  to  do  the  same.** 


Chap.Xyil'^         THE  BROTHERS  RECONCILED  357 

'*  Since  your  Highness  so  wills  it,  we  are  content  to  pro- 
ceed no  further  in  the  matter, ' '  replied  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 
*'But  we  must  have  a  promise  from  the  lord  admiral  that  he 
will  abstain  from  all  such  practices  in  future." 

**Iwill  answer  for  him,'*  replied  the  protector.  '*  It  is 
my  earnest  desire  to  please  your  Majesty  in  all  things,"  he 
continued  ;  "  and  if  there  be  aught  not  done  to  your  satisfac- 
tion, it  shall  be  amended." 

"That  is  the  sum  of  my  treasonable  designs,"  observed 
the  admiral.  **A11  I  have  labored  for  is,  that  his  majesty 
should  be  properly  treated.  *  * 

*'  His  majesty  shall  have  no  reason  to  complain,"  observed 
the  lord  protector.  *'To  prove  to  you  how  much  you  have 
misjudged  me,  brother,  and  how  sincerely  I  desire  to  promote 
a  good  understanding  between  us,  an  addition  shall  be  made 
of  a  thousand  a  year  to  your  revenue  from  the  royal  treasure." 

**  I  thank  your  Highness,"  replied  the  admiral,  bowing. 

**But  you  must  forego  all  pretension  to  be  made  governor 
of  his  majesty's  person — for  such  will  never  be  permitted." 

**A11  I  desire  is  free  intercourse  with  my  royal  nephew," 
said  the  admiral. 

''And  this  shall  be  accorded  you  so  long  as  the  license  is 
not  abused,"  rejoined  the  protector. 

While  this  was  passing,  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and  the  Lord 
Russell  conferred  apart. 

"What  has  caused  this  sudden  change  in  the  lord  pro- 
tector's disposition  towards  his  brother?"  observed  Russell. 

"I  know  not,"  replied  Warwick.  "But  it  is  plain  the 
admiral  has  some  hold  upon  him.  Instead  of  being  sent  to 
the  Tower  he  is  rewarded.  Somerset  is  wrong  to  temporize 
thus.  His  brother  will  never  cease  plotting.  Better  crush 
him  now  than  let  him  live  to  do  more  mischief. ' ' 

"  I  am  of  your  opinion,"  said  Russell.  "  This  leniency  is 
ill  judged." 

After  the  departure  of  the  lord  protector  and  the  others. 


358  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  U 

the  admiral  tamed  for  a  short  time  with  his  royal  nephew, 
and  while  he  was  taking  his  leave,  Edward  said  to  him : 

*  *  We  have  both  gained  something  by  this  struggle,  gentle 
uncle.  I  have  obtained  my  liberty,  and  you  have  got  a  thou- 
sand a  year  added  to  your  revenue.  You  cannot  be  governor 
of  our  person,  but  you  will  ever  hold  the  first  place  in  our 
regard.'* 

'*That  is  all  I  aspire  to,  my  gracious  liege,"  rejoined  the 
admiral,  kissing  his  hand.  And  he  added  to  himself  as  he 
retired :  '*  Somerset  thinks  to  conciliate  me  with  this  paltry 
bribe.  Were  he  to  offer  me  half  his  own  revenues,  he  should 
not  induce  me  to  forego  my  purpose.  * ' 


Thus  far  the  Second  Book 


BOOK  HI 
PLOT  AND  COUNTERPLOT 


CHAPTER  I 

OF  THE  ARRANGEMENT   MADE  BY    THE    ADMIRAL    IVITH 
THE  MASTER  OF  THE  MINT  AT  BRISTOL 

Several  months  flew  by,  during  which  no  further  difference 
occurred  between  the  lord  protector  and  the  admiral.  A 
semblance  of  good  understanding  was  maintained  between 
them,  both  being  exceedingly  careful  to  do  no  act  to  betray 
the  secret  animosity  they  still  nourished  towards  each  other. 
Somerset  strove  to  conciliate  his  brother  by  fresh  favors,  but 
ineffectually.  The  admiral's  greedy  ambition  was  not  to  be 
thus  easily  satisfied,  though  he  professed  unbounded  grati- 
tude. 

Towards  the  end  of  August,  1547,  the  protector  had  com- 
pleted his  preparations  for  his  long  meditated  warlike  expedi- 
tion against  Scotland.  The  invading  army  comprised  about 
twenty  thousand  men,  more  than  a  third  of  whom,  however, 
consisted  of  German,  Spanish,  and  Italian  mercenaries.  Some 
apprehension  being  entertained  of  an  invasion  from  France, 
aid  having  been  promised  by  the  reigning  monarch,  Henri 
II.,  to  the  Scots,  all  needful  precautions  were  taken  for  the 
security  of  the  English  shores.  The  admiral  was  appointed 
lord-lieutenant  of  the  South,  and  the  defence  of  the  whole 
south  coast  was  intrusted  to  him.  He  had  indulged  the  hope 
that  during  his  absence  his  brother  would  delegate  his  powers 
to  him,  but  the  protector  was  far  too  wary,  preferring  to 
place  the  temporary  government  of  the  kingdom  in  the  hands 
of  the  council.  Consequently,  the  chief  management  of 
affairs  was  intrusted  to  Sir  William  Paget,  principal  secretary 
of  state,  in  whom  Somerset  had  entire  reliance. 

All  arrangements  being  made,  and  a  numerous  and  well- 

361 


362  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  III 

manned  fleet,  under  the  command  of  Lord  Clinton,  designed 
to  attend  the  army  on  its  march  along  the  coast,  having  set 
sail,  the  lord  protector,  accompanied  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
as  second  in  command,  took  formal  leave  of  his  royal  nephew, 
and  set  forth  on  his  expedition. 

By  the  departure  of  his  brother,  the  stage  was  left  free  to 
the  admiral,  and  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to 
prosecute  his  machinations  more  actively  than  ever.  Aware, 
however,  that  he  was  surrounded  by  the  spies  of  the  council, 
and  that  all  his  proceedings  would  be  reported  to  his  brother 
by  Sir  William  Paget,  he  observed  extreme  caution.  In  a 
scheme  so  gigantic  as  that  on  which  he  was  engaged,  the  pos- 
session of  large  supplies  of  money  was  indispensable,  but  how 
were  these  to  be  promptly  obtained  ?  At  last  he  hit  upon  an 
expedient  which  he  put  in  practice  without  hesitation.  Hav- 
ing received  private  information  from  one  of  the  officers  that 
Sir  William  Sharington,  master  of  the  mint  at  Bristol,  had 
been  guilty  of  certain  fraudulent  practices,  he  judged  him  to 
be  a  man  fit  for  his  purpose,  and  accordingly  despatched  Ugo 
Harrington  to  him  with  a  letter,  ordering  him  to  come  up  to 
London  at  once.  Sharington  complied,  and,  returning  with 
the  messenger,  immediately  waited  on  Seymour. 

He  was  received  very  coldly,  the  admiral's  object  being  to 
work  upon  his  fears.  Motioning  him  to  take  a  seat,  Seymour 
forbore  to  address  him  till  they  were  alone. 

Sir  William  Sharington  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  tall,  well 
proportioned,  sallow  complexioned,  bald,  with  a  black  beard, 
slightly  tinged  with  grey.  His  eyes  were  dark  and  quick, 
and  though  his  features  were  good,  there  was  something 
equivocal  in  his  look.  He  was  plainly  but  handsomely 
attired  in  a  murrey-colored  velvet  doublet,  over  which  he 
wore  a  gown  of  the  same  color,  lined  and  faced  with  sable. 
Eyeing  the  admiral  keenly,  he  perceived  that  mischief  was 
intended  him. 

**  Sir  William  Sharington,"  said  Seymour,  in  a  stern  tone. 


a^.  /]  SEYMOUR  SUBORNS  SH/tRINGTOM  363 

and  with  a  severe  look,  "your  malpractices  have  been  re- 
vealed to  me  by  your  assay-master.  You  have  alloyed  the 
gold  and  silver  intrusted  to  you.  Attempt  not  to  deny  your 
guilt,  or  I  will  have  you  taken  to  the  Tower,  where  the  torture 
will  soon  wring  a  full  confession  from  you. ' ' 

**  Have  mercy  upon  me  !"  cried  Sharington,  in  extremity  of 
terror.  '*  I  will  repair  the  wrong  I  have  done — I  will  give  up 
all  my  possessions.     Do  not  let  me  be  put  to  the  torture. ' ' 

Sejrmour  shook  his  head  sternly. 

'*A11  thy  possessions  will  be  confiscated  by  the  Crown," 
he  said,  "and  thou  thyself  wilt  be  hanged." 

"Pity  me !  pity  me  !"  cried  Sharington,  falling  upon  his 
knees  before  him.     " Take  all  I  have,  and  let  me  go." 

Having  sufficiently  terrified  him  for  his  purpose,  the  ad- 
miral said : 

"  Thou  seest  that  thy  life  is  in  my  power.  What  wilt  thou 
do  if  I  save  thee  ? '  * 

"I  will  do  whatever  your  Highness  commands,"  replied 
Sharington,  beginning  to  breathe  more  freely. 

"Well,  then,  I  have  occasion  for  ten  thousand  pounds. 
Canst  thou  procure  it  for  me  ? ' ' 

"Ten  thousand  pounds!"  exclaimed  Sharington,  in  de- 
spair. "  Your  Highness  is  too  hard  upon  me.  I  have  not  the 
half,  nor  the  third  of  that  sum.  Will  not  less  content 
you?" 

"  I  tell  thee  I  must  have  ten  thousand,"  rejoined  the  ad- 
miral. "  Nay,  before  I  have  done  with  thee,  I  must  have 
forty  thousand." 

"  Better  send  me  to  the  Tower  at  once,"  groaned  Sharing- 
ton. "  'Tis  impossible  for  me  to  comply  with  your  High- 
ness's  conditions." 

"Hark  ye,  Sharington,"  cried  the  admiral,  altering  his 
tone,  "  I  will  trifle  with  you  no  longer.  It  is  true  that  your 
life  is  in  my  power,  but  I  do  not  mean  to  harm  you.  Let  us 
understand  each  other." 


364  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

"I  am  all  anxiety  to  leam  your  Highness' s  wishes,"  said 
Sharington,  eagerly. 

**  You  are  master  of  the  mint  at  Bristol.  The  whole  of  the 
officers  are  under  your  control.  The  pix  is  in  your  keeping, 
and  you  have  charge  of  all  the  gold  and  silver  in  bullion.  * ' 

*'A11  this  is  true,  your  Highness." 

'*Tis  plain  you  are  not  overburdened  by  any  foolish  scru- 
ples, therefore  what  I  have  to  propose  will  not  shock  you. 
You  have  already  alloyed  the  gold  for  your  own  benefit — you 
must  continue  to  alloy  it  for  mine.  Nay,  you  must  do  more. 
You  must  clip  all  the  gold  and  silver  pieces,  the  rials,  angels, 
rose-nobles,  and  marks  that  fall  into  your  hands.  Moreover, 
you  must  coin  base  money.  * ' 

**  All  this  I  would  willingly  do  to  pleasure  your  lordship. 
But  such  practices,  if  long  continued,  would  be  sure  to  be 
discovered  by  the  moneyers,  melters,  and  blanchers. ' ' 

'*  Your  present  officers  must  be  dismissed,  and  others  more 
tractable  found.  I  will  silence  the  assay -master  who  has  dared 
to  denounce  you.     He  shall  pass  a  few  months  at  the  Fleet. ' ' 

**  Nay,  if  I  have  your  Highness' s  support,  and  I  can  find 
cunning  artificers  to  aid  me,  I  doubt  not  but  it  may  be  done, 
and  that  I  may  be  able  to  provide  you  with  the  large  sum  you 
mention.     Forty  thousand,  I  think  your  Highness  said  ?  * ' 

*  *  Forty  or  fifty  thousand.  Sir  William.  You  will  employ 
your  time  badly  if  you  make  not  as  much  for  yourself ' ' 

*'  I  will  do  the  best  I  can,  your  Highness,  but  there  will  be 
heavy  fees  to  the  moneyers  and  melters,  and  such  as  sweat  and 
pare  the  coin.     They  will  not  do  the  work  for  nothing. '  * 

"It  cannot  be  expected.  But  you  may  proceed  without 
fear,  Sir  William.  Ere  another  year  is  over  our  heads,  the 
government  of  this  realm  will  be  in  my  hands,  and  I  will  take 
good  care  you  are  not  molested. ' ' 

"Ah !  if  your  Highness  should  be  once  at  the  head  of 
affairs,  all  will  be  well,"  cried  Sharington.  "  Meantime,  you 
will  not,  perhaps,  object  to  give  me  an  order. ' ' 


Chap,  n  SEYMOUR  SUBORNS  SHARINGTON  365 

"An  order  for  what  ?  *' 

"  For  the  money  you  require.  It  will  prevent  my  being 
called  in  question  hereafter." 

''You  are  a  cunning  knave,"  cried  the  admiral.  *'  Well, 
you  shall  have  the  order." 

And  he  wrote  it  out  and  gave  it  him. 

"  I  shall  preserve  this  carefully,"  said  Sharington,  securing 
it  in  his  doublet. 

"Return  to  Bristol,"  pursued  Seymour,  "and  commence 
operations  forthwith.  Within  a  week  I  shall  expect  ten 
thousand  pounds." 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  satisfy  your  Highness,  but  if  any  un- 
foreseen difficulties  should  arise '  * 

"  I  will  have  no  excuses.  If  you  are  not  punctual,  I  will 
enforce  payment  in  a  manner  that  may  not  be  agreeable  to 
you.  I  have  a  long  arm,  and  can  easily  reach  those  who  dis- 
please me.  The  next  time  you  are  sent  for,  it  will  not  be 
to  talk  matters  over  thus. ' ' 

Sharington  made  no  reply,  but,  bowing  respectfully  to  the 
admiral,  withdrew. 

"I  have  found  a  useful  instrument  in  that  man,"  thought 
Seymour,  as  he  was  left  alone,  "but  I  must  keep  a  wary  eye 
upon  him.     He  looks  treacherous." 

Shortly  afterwards,  Ugo  Harrington  entered  the  cabinet. 

* '  How  now  ? ' '  demanded  the  admiral.  *  *Any  more  wrecks 
seized  ?  " 

"  No,  your  Highness ;  but  Captain  Hombeak,  whom  you 
liberated,  has  arrived  at  Gravesend  with  a  large  booty,  and 
requires  an  order  to  land  it. '  * 

"Well,  let  him  have  the  order,"  replied  the  admiral. 
"Assign  him  his  portion  of  the  spoil,  and  see  that  the 
remainder  be  safely  bestowed.  As  soon  as  his  pinnace  is 
fitted  out  again  he  must  sail  for  the  Scilly  Isles." 

"Your  Highness  has  then  got  possession  of  those  long- 
coveted  islands  ?  " 


366  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOURER  [Book  III 

"  I  am  about  to  take  possession  of  them,'*  replied  Seymour, 
with  a  smile.  '*  I  have  already  despatched  a  small  fleet  of 
pirate  vessels  thither  under  the  command  of  Captain  Blades, 
and  as  the  bulk  of  the  navy  is  now  employed  off  the  coast  of 
Scotland,  they  are  not  likely  to  meet  with  interruption.  I 
mean  to  make  the  Scilly  Isles  a  depository  for  stores  and  arms. ' ' 

**  No  safer  place  could  be  found,"  replied  Ugo ;  "  and,  as 
your  Highness  once  observed,  those  islands  may  prove  a  refuge 
for  you  in  case  of  need. ' ' 

"Such  a  necessity,  I  trust,  will  not  arise,'*  replied  the 
admiral.  **  I  ought  to  go  down  to  Holt  to  see  that  the  castle 
is  kept  constantly  provisioned ;  but  I  must  trust  to  my  deputy- 
governor,  for  I  like  not  to  be  absent  from  London  at  this 
juncture. ' ' 

A  sudden  interruption  was  here  offered  to  their  conversation 
by  the  discharge  of  ordnance,  evidently  proceeding  from  the 
Tower.  Immediately  afterwards  the  guns  of  the  palace  re- 
sponded, the  bells  of  all  the  churches  began  to  peal  merrily, 
while  shouts  and  acclamations  were  heard. 

"  Those  sounds  denote  that  a  victory  has  been  won  by  our 
army  in  Scotland,**  cried  the  admiral.  *'An  engagement, 
I  know,  was  imminent.  Hie  thee  forth,  Ugo,  and  let  me 
know  what  has  happened.'* 

The  esquire  obeyed ;  and  during  his  absence  the  ringing  of 
bells  and  shouting  continued,  increasing  Seymour's  impatience 
to  learn  the  news.  After  a  while,  Ugo  returned,  with  looks 
plainly  indicating  that  he  had  most  important  intelligence 
to  communicate. 

"A  great  victory  has  been  gained  by  the  lord  protector,"  he 
said,  "over  the  Scots  on  the  field  of  Pinkey,  near  Mussel- 
burgh. The  Scottish  army  is  totally  routed,  about  fourteen 
thousand  of  them  being  slain,  and  fifteen  hundred  made  pris- 
oners, among  whom  is  the  Earl  of  Huntly,  with  many  gentle- 
men. The  protector  is  master  of  Edinburgh,  except  the 
castle,  which  must  speedily  surrender. ' ' 


Chap.  /]  SEYMOUR  SUBORNS  SHARINGTON  367 

**My  brother's  star  is  in  the  ascendant,'*  observed  the 
admiral,  moodily. 

"The  news  runs  that  his  highness  will  return  at  once 
to  London,  and  leave  the  command  of  the  army  to  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,"  pursued  Ugo. 

**  What  brings  him  back  so  suddenly,  I  marvel? **  said  the 
admiral. 

**  Possibly  he  may  have  received  intimation  of  your  lord- 
ship's proceedings,  and  may  deem  his  presence  necessary 
to  check  them,  "said  Ugo. 

"It  maybe  so,"  rejoined  Seymour,  thoughtfully.  **At 
any  rate,  the  enterprise  must  be  deferred  to  a  more  propitious 
opportunity.  'Twill  not  be  the  moment  to  cope  with  him 
when  he  comes  back  covered  with  glory. ' ' 

"Had  he  been  defeated,  your  Highness' s  chance  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  greater,"  observed  Ugo.  "The 
whole  realm  will  ring  with  his  triumphs  for  some  time  to  come, 
and  his  name  will  be  uppermost  in  all  men's  minds.  The 
lord  mayor  and  the  citizens  will,  no  doubt,  give  him  a 
magnificent  reception.  Your  lordship  is  discreet  to  bide 
your  time." 

"When  his  popularity  wanes,  the  blow  shall  be  struck," 
said  the  admiral.  "But  I  must  to  the  palace,  and  offer 
my  congratulations  to  the  king  on  the  glorious  victory  of 
Pinkey." 

As  he  went  forth,  he  found  the  whole  populace  astir, 
and  making  extravagant  demonstrations  of  delight.  His 
brother's  name  was  on  every  man's  lips.  Somerset's  reputa- 
tion had  risen  to  such  an  immeasurable  height  as  to  render 
any  immediate  attempt  against  him  futile. 


368  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOiVER  iBook  III 


CHAPTER  II 


SUDLEY  CASTLE 

About  a  year  must  now  be  allowed  to  elapse  with  very  brief 
mention  of  what  occurred  during  that  interval.  The  brilliant 
victory  gained  over  the  Scots  at  Pinkey,  alluded  to  in  the 
previous  chapter,  consolidated  the  lord  protector's  power, 
and  his  popularity  rose  to  such  a  height  as  to  defy  all  oppo- 
sition. 

During  the  twelve  months  to  which  we  refer,  considerable 
progress  had  been  made  with  the  Reformation,  and  strong 
coercive  measures  put  in  force  against  the  Romanists.  Great 
opposition  was  made  to  these  changes  by  Bishops  Gardiner, 
Bonner,  and  Tunstal,  and  the  Princess  Mary  declared  herself 
strenuously  against  them,  but  Cranmer  proceeded  zealously 
in  his  task,  being  aided  by  Doctor  Ridley,  who  was  now  made 
Bishop  of  Rochester,  and  by  Doctor  Hugh  Latimer,  who  had 
resigned  the  bishopric  of  Worcester  during  the  late  reign  be- 
cause he  would  not  sign  the  obnoxious  statute  of  the  Six 
Articles,  but  who  had  lately  been  called  from  his  retirement. 

A  general  visitation  of  the  churches  throughout  England 
was  commanded  by  the  king.  A  book  of  homilies  was  com- 
piled, and  placed  in  the  hands  of  every  minister.  The  para- 
phrase of  the  New  Testament  by  Erasmus  was  translated  and 
appointed  for  use.  All  images,  statues,  and  ornaments  pro- 
faned by  superstitious  rites  were  ordered  to  be  removed ;  the 
Holy  Scriptures  were  enjoined  to  be  read  only  in  English ; 
and  efforts  were  made  to  render  the  lives  of  the  clergy  more 
exemplary.  The  terrible  statute  of  the  Six  Articles,  passed  by 
the  late  king,  was  repealed.  Many  old  superstitious  rites  were 
abolished.    An  order  of  the  council  was  procured  by  Cranmer 


Chap.  11]  SUDLEY  CASTLE  369 

against  the  carrying  of  candles  on  Candlemas -day,  of  ashes  on 
Ash  Wednesday,  and  palms  on  Palm  Sunday.  The  whole 
church  service  was  appointed  to  be  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  and 
the  Liturgy  was  compiled.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  a  good 
deal  of  discontent  prevailed  throughout  the  country,  and  in- 
surrections were  threatened  in  several  counties. 

Bonner  and  Tunstal  found  it  necessary  to  conform ;  but 
Gardiner,  who  was  made  of  more  stubborn  material,  resisted, 
and  was  first  of  all  imprisoned  in  the  Fleet,  and  subsequently 
in  the  Tower.  After  a  long  confinement,  however,  he  was 
liberated,  but  threatened  with  the  deprivation  of  his  bishopric 
if  he  continued  contumacious.  Two  other  recusant  prelates 
were  sent  to  the  Tower, — Heath,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  and 
Day,  Bishop  of  Chichester. 

During  this  time,  as  may  be  supposed,  the  pious  young  king 
had  devoted  himself  sedulously  to  the  work  of  religious  re- 
form, and  leaving  secular  matters  altogether  to  his  uncle  the 
lord  protector,  passed  his  time  chiefly  in  conferences  with 
Cranmer,  in  listening  to  the  homilies  of  Ridley  and  Latimer, 
and  other  zealous  Protestant  divines,  and  in  devising  means 
to  free  his  dominions  utterly  from  the  errors  of  Popery,  and 
the  establishment  of  pure  doctrines  in  their  stead. 

Edward  had  now  been  nearly  two  years  upon  the  throne, 
and  during  that  space,  through  his  instrumentality,  much  good 
had  been  accomplished.  Though  the  war  with  Scotland  was 
still  carried  on  in  a  desultory  manner,  the  great  bone  of  con- 
tention had  been  withdrawn  by  the  removal  of  the  young 
Queen  of  Scots  to  France,  where  she  was  subsequently  be- 
trothed to  the  dauphin,  Frangois  de  Valois.  This  latter  cir- 
cumstance was  satisfactory  to  Edward,  as  it  left  him  free  to 
make  his  own  choice  of  a  consort. 

And  here  we  may  mention  that  his  attachment  to  the  Lady 

Jane  Grey  continued  undiminished.     Never  was  he  so  happy 

as  in  her  society.     He  frequently  consulted  her  on  measures 

of  religious  reform,  and  always  found  her  counsel  wise  and 

24 


370  THE  CONST/tBLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  Ul 

good.  The  marked  preference  exhibited  by  his  royal  nephew 
for  the  Lady  Jane  could  not  escape  the  penetration  of  the 
lord  protector;  but  though  he  had  formerly  been  averse  to 
the  possibility  of  such  an  alliance,  he  now  seemed  to  view  it 
with  more  favor,  and  it  began  to  be  whispered  that  ere  long 
the  young  king  would  be  contracted  to  the  Lady  Jane  Grey. 
But  this  event  never  occurred. 

Not  for  a  moment  during  the  twelve  months  to  which  we 
have  adverted  had  the  admiral  abandoned  his  secret  designs, 
though  forced  to  defer  their  execution.  All  his  plans  were 
systematically  carried  on.  Through  the  agency  of  Sharing- 
ton  and  of  the  pirates  whom  he  employed,  he  hesitated  not 
to  defraud  the  government  to  an  immense  extent,  and  in  this 
unscrupulous  manner  possessed  himself  of  large  sums.  He 
turned  his  office  to  the  same  account;  took  bribes,  and 
extorted  money  on  various  pretences.  All  wrecks  that  fell 
into  his  hands  helped  to  enrich  his  own  coffers.  Though 
complaints  for  these  wrongs  were  frequently  made,  such  were 
his  craft  and  audacity  that  redress  could  never  be  obtained. 
Several  of  the  gentlemen  and  grooms  of  the  privy-chamber 
were  in  his  pay,  and  regularly  reported  to  him  what  passed  in 
the  royal  presence.  Already,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had  a  vast 
number  of  retainers,  but  he  was  constantly  adding  to  them, 
and  always  sought  to  have  young  gentlemen  of  good  family 
for  his  esquires.  By  every  means  in  his  power  he  strove  to 
ingratiate  himself  with  the  old  nobility,  and  secretly  sided 
with  all  those  who  were  disaffected  towards  the  lord  protector 
or  jealous  of  his  power.  But  it  was  chiefly  in  the  country 
that  he  sought  to  extend  his  influence.  Contriving  to  get  an 
extraordinary  number  of  lordships  into  his  hands,  he  ap- 
pointed stewards  to  them  who  were  in  his  interest,  and  whose 
business  it  was  to  strengthen  his  party.  By  these  and  like 
means  were  the  ramifications  of  the  gigantic  conspiracy  he 
was  hatching  extended.  He  could  now  fairly  estimate  his 
adherents  at  ten  thousand  men,  but  in  the  event  of  a  rising, 


Chap,  n]  SUDLEY  CASTLE  371 

he  felt  sure  he  should  be  able  to  muster  double  or  treble  that 
number.  With  this  design,  he  counselled  all  the  discontented 
nobles  to  retire  to  their  country  residences,  and  there 
strengthen  themselves  as  much  as  possible,  holding  them- 
selves in  readiness  for  any  emergency.  The  manner  of  his 
proceeding  will  be  best  exemplified  by  relating  a  discourse 
which  he  had  with  the  Marquis  of  Dorset  previous  to  the  de- 
parture of  the  latter  for  Bradgate  in  Leicestershire. 

*  *  Make  yourself  strong,  marquis — make  yourself  strong, ' ' 
he  said.  *'  There  is  no  saying  what  may  happen.  If  a  rising 
should  take  place,  you  will  be  prepared.  Have  you  many 
friends  about  you  ? ' ' 

'  *  I  have  many  retainers,  gentlemen  of  no  great  means,,  who 
are  content  to  serve  me,"  replied  Dorset. 

*' Trust  not  too  much  to  them,"  rejoined  the  admiral, 
' '  but  secure,  if  you  can,  the  yeomen  and  the  franklins — they 
will  aid  you  best.  Find  out  the  ringleaders  and  those  who 
have  most  influence  with  the  commonalty,  and  spare  no 
efforts  to  win  them  over.  Be  familiar  with  them.  Go  to 
their  houses.  Flatter  their  wives  and  daughters.  Take  with 
you  a  flask  or  two  of  wine,  a  venison  pasty,  a  cold  capon,  or 
such  matters,  and  sit  down  with  them.  In  this  manner  you 
will  win  their  hearts,  and  have  them  at  your  commandment. 
D'ye  note  me,  marquis? " 

"Right  well,  admiral,"  he  replied.  "You  are  a  rare 
plotter." 

*  *  You  will  find  the  plan  efficacious, '  *  said  the  admiral ;  *  *  and 
so  well  do  I  think  of  it,  that  I  intend  to  pursue  it  myself. ' ' 

Other  hints  were  given,  which  Dorset  promised  to  turn  to 
account.  As  usual,  he  was  in  want  of  money,  and  before 
taking  leave  of  the  admiral,  had  increased  his  debt  to  him  by 
another  five  hundred  pounds. 

Pursuing  the  plan  he  had  recommended  to  Dorset,  Sey- 
mour spent  a  portion  of  his  time  at  Sudley  Castle,  in  Glou- 
cestershire, where  he  kept  up  a  princely  establishment,  and 


372  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  lit 

by  his  hearty  and  engaging  manner  won  the  good  opinion 
of  all  the  yeomen  and  franklins  in  the  neighborhood. 

Situated  about  a  mile  from  Winchcombe,  amid  the  beautiful 
hills  of  Gloucestershire,  this  magnificent  castle  was  erected 
by  Lord  Boteler,  who  subsequently  assumed  the  title  of 
Sudley,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VI. ,  on  the  site  of  a  still  more 
ancient  edifice,  constructed  by  Radulphus,  Earl  of  Here- 
ford, at  the  time  of  the  Conquest.  *'  The  Lord  Sudley  who 
builded  the  castle, ' '  says  old  Leland,  '  *  was  a  famous  man  of 
war  in  King  Henry  V.  and  VLth*s  days;  and  was  an  ad- 
miral, as  I  have  heard,  on  sea;  whereupon  it  was  supposed 
and  spoken,  that  it  was  partly  builded  ex  spoliis  Gallorum; 
and  some  speak  of  a  tower  in  it  called  Portmare's  Tower, 
that  it  should  be  made  of  a  ransom  of  his.  One  thing  was  to 
be  noted  in  this  castle,  that  part  of  the  windows  of  it  were 
glazed  with  beryls.  King  Edward  IV.  bore  no  good  will  to 
the  Lord  Sudley,  as  a  man  suspected  to  be  in  heart  devoted 
to  King  Henry  VI.,  whereupon,  by  complaints  he  was  at- 
tached, and  going  up  to  London,  he  looked  from  the  hill  to 
Sudley,  and  said,  *  Castle  of  Sudley,  thou  art  the  traitor,  not 
I  '  *  Afterwards,  he  made  an  honest  declaration,  and  sold 
his  castle  to  King  Edward  IV. ' ' 

This  splendid  structure,  described  by  another  quaint  old 
writer.  Fuller,  as  **of  subjects'  castles  the  most  handsome 
habitation,  and  of  subjects'  habitations  the  strongest  castle," 
continued  in  the  possession  of  the  Crown  till  the  accession  of 
Edward  VI.,  when  it  was  bestowed,  as  we  have  seen,  upon 
Lord  Seymour.  Large  sums  were  expended  by  the  admiral 
upon  its  enlargement  and  improvement,  and,  while  heighten- 
ing its  beauty,  he  contrived,  at  the  same  time,  materially 
to  increase  its  strength.  It  contained  many  noble  apartments, 
all  of  which  were  furnished  with  the  gorgeous  taste  charac- 
teristic of  its  possessor.  The  chapel  attached  to  the  castle  was 
exquisitely  beautiful;  the  windows  of  the  lovely  fane,  as 
mentioned  by  Leland,  being  filled  with  beryls. 


Chap.  //]  SUDLEY  CASTLE  373 

Sudley  Castle,  as  we  have  just  stated,  was  within  a  mile  of 
the  ancient  and  picturesque  town  of  Winchcombe,  which  up 
to  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.  had  boasted  a  mitred  abbey.  Its 
domains  were  watered  by  the  little  river  Isborne.  Sur- 
rounded by  lovely  hills,  and  embosomed  in  stately  groves, 
from  the  midst  of  which  sprang  its  lofty  towers,  the  princely 
edifice  commanded  enchanting  prospects.  Its  size,  strength, 
and  the  richness  and  beauty  of  its  architecture,  rendered 
it  one  of  the  noblest  specimens  of  a  castellated  mansion  to  be 
met  with  in  the  kingdom.  Unluckily,  but  few  remains  of  its 
former  grandeur  are  left.  Taken  by  the  Republican  party  in 
1642,  it  was  partially  destroyed  by  them,  its  halls  dismantled, 
its  beautiful  chapel  unroofed,  the  windows  of  the  fane  rifled  of 
their  beryls,  and  the  repose  of  the  dead  lying  within  its  walls 
profaned.  Still,  though  the  castle  is  now  but  a  ruin,  and  the 
stars  look  down  into  the  roofless  aisles  of  the  desecrated  chapel, 
enough  is  left  to  attest  its  former  grandeur  and  magnificence ; 
while  a  glorious  western  window,  with  a  canopied  niche  on 
either  side,  shows  what  the  chapel  must  have  been  when  beau- 
tified by  Lord  Seymour. 

In  this  noble  castellated  mansion,  which  he  maintained 
with  truly  baronial  splendor,  the  admiral  passed  a  certain 
portion  of  his  time — not  inactively,  as  we  have  shown.  But 
he  had  another  and  yet  more  important  stronghold  to  which 
he  sometimes  repaired,  and  where  his  preparations  had  been 
made  on  a  still  more  extensive  and  formidable  scale  than 
at  Sudley.  This  was  Holt  Castle,  in  Denbighshire.  Built  on 
the  banks  of  the  Dee,  which  ofl'ered  facilities  for  the  introduc- 
tion of  arms  and  stores,  this  second  fortress  was  of  great  size 
and  strength,  pentangular  in  shape,  with  a  bastion  tower 
on  each  angle.  On  all  sides,  except  that  of  the  river,  which 
formed  a  natural  defence,  it  was  surrounded  by  a  broad,  deep 
moat,  and  was  approached  by  a  drawbridge,  protected  by 
a  strong  square  tower,  provided  with  portcullises,  and  flanked 
with  machiolated  parapets.     The  possession  of  such  a  strong- 


374  TM^  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  III 

hold  as  this  was  of  the  last  importance  to  Lord  Seymour. 
He  kept  it  in  a  constant  state  of  defence,  garrisoned  it  with  a 
large  number  of  men,  victualled  it  with  wheat,  malt,  and 
provisions  as  if  for  a  long  siege,  planted  ordnance  on  its 
walls,  and  converted  it  into  a  complete  depository  for  warlike 
stores.  He  was  in  constant  communication  with  the  deputy- 
governor  of  the  fortress,  on  whose  fidelity  he  could  rely,  but 
he  now  and  then  paid  it  a  visit,  when  least  expected,  to 
satisfy  himself  that  all  was  going  on  according  to  his  orders. 
As  no  events,  however,  connected  with  this  history  occurred 
at  Holt  Castle,  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  describe  it  further, 
and  we  will  therefore  return  to  the  proud  and  beautiful  castle 
of  Sudley,  where  a  tragical  circumstance  took  place. 

Neglected,  as  we  have  seen,  by  her  careless  and  ambitious 
husband.  Queen  Catherine  Parr  passed  a  life  of  great  seclu- 
sion, and  Sudley  Castle  offering  her  a  retreat  even  more  to  her 
taste  than  the  manor-house  at  Chelsea,  she  withdrew  thither 
altogether.  Removed  from  the  great  world  in  which  she  had 
once  occupied  so  exalted  a  position,  she  gave  herself  up 
entirely  to  quiet  pursuits,  to  reading,  and  to  the  exercises  of 
devotion ;  and  if  she  was  not  perfectly  happy,  at  least  she  was 
tranquil.  It  must  not,  however,  be  imagined  that  she  led  a 
solitary  life.  Parsimony  formed  no  part  of  the  admiral's 
failings.  Though  paying  his  consort  little  personal  attention, 
he  abridged  none  of  her  rights,  but  treated  her  in  every 
respect  like  a  queen,  kept  up  a  household  on  a  perfectly 
regal  scale,  had  a  number  of  gentlemen  to  attend  upon  her, 
with  pages,  ushers,  marshals,  grooms,  and  other  servitors. 
She  had  also  her  chaplain.  Her  chief  companions  were  the 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  for  whom  she  entertained  an  almost  ma- 
ternal attachment,  and  Lady  Tyrwhyt.  The  latter  had  been 
her  attendant  during  the  lifetime  of  her  former  husband.  King 
Henry,  and  had  remained  with  her  ever  since.  Hers  was 
the  only  bosom  into  which  she  could  pour  her  secret  sorrows. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1548,  Queen  Catherine  proceeded 


Chap,  //]  SUDLEY  CASTLE  375 

to  Sudley  Castle,  and  she  remained  there  until  the  end  of  Au- 
gust. Daily  expecting  to  become  a  mother,  her  removal, 
under  such  circumstances,  was  out  of  the  question.  But  she 
did  not  even  desire  to  remove.  She  loved  the  lordly  castle, 
the  woods  that  sheltered  it,  the  beautiful  hills  encompassing 
it,  and  delighted  to  wander  at  morn  and  eventide  by  the 
banks  of  the  Isborne.  The  Lady  Jane  Grey  had  recently  left 
her,  having  been  summoned  to  Bradgate,  but  Lady  Tyrwhyt 
was  in  constant  attendance.  Catherine,  whose  love  for  her 
husband  could  be  changed  by  no  neglect,  persuaded  herself 
that  anxiety  as  to  her  well-doing  would  bring  the  admiral  to 
Sudley.  But  in  this  natural  expectation  she  was  doomed  to 
disappointment.  He  came  not.  Messengers  were  despatched 
to  him,  but  in  vain.  He  did  not  even  write,  but  sent  Ugo 
Harrington  to  make  his  excuses.  The  queen  had  fretted  so 
much,  and  had  wrought  herself  into  such  a  state  of  anxiety, 
that  her  attendants  were  almost  apprehensive  of  the  conse- 
quences. They  did  their  best  to  calm  her,  but  their  efforts 
produced  but  little  effect. 

**What  message  bring' st  thou  from  my  lord?"  she  de- 
manded, as  Ugo  presented  himself  before  her.  "  Will  he  not 
come  ? ' ' 

'*  His  highness  charged  me  to  commend  him  most  tenderly 
to  your  Majesty,"  replied  Ugo.  **  Had  he  been  his  own 
master,  he  would  have  flown  to  you  on  the  wings  of  swiftness, 
but  he  is  compelled  to  be  in  attendance  upon  his  majesty  at 
Windsor." 

''That  is  a  mere  idle  excuse,"  rejoined  Catherine,  angrily. 
**  The  king  would  never  detain  him  against  his  will.  There 
must  be  some  special  attraction  at  Windsor  at  present.  Ha  ! 
thou  smil'st." 

''Nay,  your  Highness,  I  meant  nothing  if  I  did." 

"  Is  the  Princess  Elizabeth  at  Windsor?  No  equivocation, 
fellow.     Answer  me  truly.  * ' 

"  I  would  rather  not  answer  the  question,"  he  rejoined. 


376  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  lit 

**She  is,  then!"  exclaimed  the  queen,  passionately. 
**  This,  then,  is  the  reason  why  he  will  not  come  to  me.  Oh, 
Tyrwhyt ! ' '  she  added,  with  an  hysterical  burst  of  affliction 
very  painful  to  witness,  **  I  am  indeed  most  miserable." 

**A  pest  on  thy  tongue,  thou  false  knave  !"  exclaimed  Lady 
Tyrwhyt  to  the  esquire.  '*  Seest  thou  not  what  mischief  thou 
hast  done  ?  ' ' 

**  'Twas  wholly  unintentional  on  my  part,"  said  Ugo,  with 
an  appearance  of  great  concern.  **  I  knew  not  that  her  high- 
ness disliked  the  Princess  Elizabeth. ' ' 

*'  Hold  thy  peace,  fellow  !"  exclaimed  the  queen.  **  Men- 
tion not  that  detested  name  again. '  * 

Upon  which,  her  agitation  became  yet  more  violent.  She 
uttered  wild  shrieks  ;  and  in  this  alarming  state  was  borne  to 
her  chamber. 

* '  If  any  calamity  happens,  as  I  fear  it  will, ' '  observed 
one  of  the  attendants  to  Ugo,  "thou  wilt  be  to  blame 
for  it." 

*'I  deplore  my  inadvertence,"  replied  Ugo.  "But  how 
was  I  to  know  that  her  majesty  was  so  jealous  ? ' ' 

The  queen's  condition  was  very  serious,  and  for  some  hours 
she  was  in  great  danger.  Her  physician.  Doctor  Hewke,  was 
never  absent  from  her  for  a  moment.  That  night  she  was 
prematurely  delivered  of  a  daughter.  Her  anxiety  to  see  her 
husband  increased,  and  the  impossibility  of  gratifying  her  de- 
sires, or  even  soothing  her,  brought  on  fever,  and  rendered 
her  condition  very  precarious.  Her  women,  who  were  devo- 
ted to  her,  were  in  despair,  and  Lady  Tyrwhyt  was  almost 
distracted. 

Next  day,  Ugo  was  summoned  to  the  chamber  of  the  suffer- 
ing queen.  The  cloth  of  gold  curtains  were  drawn  so  closely 
round  the  bed  that  the  esquire  could  see  nothing  of  its  occu- 
pant, but  he  heard  her  moans  and  feeble  accents. 

**  Is  he  come  ? ' '  she  inquired. 

"Ay,  your  Majesty,"  replied  Lady  Tyrwhyt. 


Uqo  pntting  Poison  in  tl)e  potion 


On  a  small  table  near  tne  couch  stood  a  silver  flagon ^ 
evidently  co?itai?iing  a  potion  i?itended  for  the  queen.  0?i 
this  cup  Ugo  had  for  some  time  fixed  his  s^aze.  As  he 
advanced  to  take  the  ring  bestowed  upon  him  by  Catherine, 
he  hastily  drew  from  his  doublet  a  small  phial,  and  poured 
a  few  drops  from  it  into  the  beverage. 


S.C-J^yi'fAt     'li.9Sy^    ^.%<»M4^  Jt'di^y: 


Chap.  //]  SUDLEY  CASTLE  377 

"It  is  well/*  replied  the  queen.  ''Leave  us  alone  for  a 
moment. ' ' 

Upon  this  Lady  Tyrwhyt,  with  Doctor  Hewke  and  the  rest 
of  the  attendants,  withdrew, 

''Ugo,"  said  the  queen,  "thou  must  go  instantly  to  my 
lord  and  husband,  and  bid  him  come  to  me  without  delay  if 
he  would  see  me  again  alive.  Take  the  best  horse  within 
the  stable,  and  ride  for  thy  life. '  * 

"  I  will  do  it,  madam,"  replied  the  esquire. 

"Fail  not  to  bring  my  lord  to  me,"  she  continued,  in  an 
agonized  voice.      "  Thou  dost  not  doubt  his  coming?  " 

"  I  am  sure  he  will  come,"  replied  Ugo. 

"Blessings  on  thee  for  thy  comfortable  words,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Tell  him  I  have  brought  him  a  beautiful  daughter. 
She  hath  his  features,  Ugo.  If  he  cares  not  to  behold  me, 
he  may  wish  to  see  her. ' ' 

"I  pray  your  Majesty  not  to  excite  yourself,"  said  Ugo. 
"  I  will  not  fail  in  my  commission." 

"There  should  be  a  ring  with  a  great  ruby  in  it  on  that 
table,"  said  the  queen.      "  Dost  perceive  it?  " 

"I  do,"  he  replied. 

"Take  it,"  pursued  Catherine,  "and  let  it  quicken  thy 
zeal  for  me. ' ' 

"  I  need  not  such  a  gift  to  quicken  it ;  nevertheless,  I  am 
greatly  beholden  to  your  Majesty." 

On  a  small  table  near  the  couch  stood  a  silver  flagon,  evi- 
dently containing  a  potion  intended  for  the  queen.  On  this 
cup  Ugo  had  for  some  time  fixed  his  gaze.  As  he  advanced 
to  take  the  ring  bestowed  upon  him  by  Catherine,  he  hastily 
drew  from  his  doublet  a  small  phial,  and  poured  a  few  drops 
from  it  into  the  beverage. 

"  She  is  scarcely  likely  to  live,"  he  thought ;  "  but  this  will 
make  all  secure. ' ' 

"Begone,  and  summon  my  women,"  cried  the  queen. 
*'  Why  dost  thou  linger?     Each  moment  is  precious." 


378  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  III 

As  Ugo  stepped  towards  the  door,  Lady  Tyrwhyt  and  the 
others  entered, 

'*  Give  me  to  drink,"  said  Catherine,  in  a  faint  voice. 

Drawing  aside  the  curtains.  Lady  Tyrwhyt  took  the  gob- 
let and  held  it  to  her  lips.  Ugo  could  not  help  looking 
back,  and  saw  that  the  poor  queen  drank  with  feverish 
avidity. 

'*She  little  recks  that  acqua  tuffania  is  mingled  with  her 
potion,"  he  muttered.  '*  There  will  soon  be  no  obstacle  to 
my  lord's  marriage  with  the  Princess  Elizabeth." 


CHAPTER  III 


HOW  THE  LORD  ADMIRAL  BECAME  A  IVIDOIVER 

Ugo  Harrington  lost  no  time  on  the  road,  but,  on  reaching 
London,  found  that  his  lord  had  suddenly  departed  for  Holt 
Castle,  and  at  once  followed  him  thither.  Owing  to  these 
delays,  though  the  utmost  expedition  was  used  consistent  with 
the  mode  of  travelling  at  the  time,  more  than  a  week  elapsed 
before  the  admiral  arrived  at  Sudley  Castle,  and  when  he  did 
so,  the  queen  was  in  a  very  alarming  state.  Doctor  Hewke 
was  wholly  unable  to  account  for  some  of  the  symptoms  she 
exhibited,  and  was  perplexed  to  find  that  his  remedies  were 
ineffectual.  She  appeared  to  be  gradually  sinking.  No  sooner, 
however,  was  her  husband's  arrival  announced,  than  new  life 
seemed  imparted  to  her,  and  she  sent  her  physician  to  entreat 
him  to  come  to  her  instantly. 

As  the  admiral  entered  her  chamber,  she  arose  from  the 
chair  in  which  she  was  seated,  and  with  a  cry  of  delight, 
which  went  to  the  hearts  of  all  those  who  heard  it,  threw  her- 
self into  his  arms. 


Chap.  Iin  SEYMOUR  A  WIDOWER  379 

Though  love  had  long  since  been  extinct  in  Seymour's 
breast,  it  was  impossible  he  could  be  unmoved  by  this  display 
of  affection,  and  as  he  gazed  on  his  consort's  altered  lineaments 
his  heart  smote  him.  Catherine,  indeed,  was  woefully 
changed,  and  looked  the  mere  shadow  of  her  former  self. 
But  there  was  now  a  flush  in  her  pale  cheek,  and  an  almost 
unearthly  brightness  in  her  eye,  that  lent  a  strange  beauty  to 
her  countenance.  She  tried  to  speak,  but  words  failed  her, 
and  she  sank,  sobbing,  on  her  husband's  shoulder. 

'*  Calm  yourself,  sweetheart,  I  implore  you,"  said  Seymour. 
**  This  agitation  will  do  you  harm." 

**  Oh  !  I  am  so  glad  you  are  come !"  she  cried.  "  I  feared 
I  should  never  behold  you  again.  I  will  not  reproach  you, 
but  you  have  been  long — long — in  coming.  I  have  counted 
the  hours  since  Ugo  left.  Methinks  if  you  had  used  despatch 
you  might  have  been  here  four  days  ago. ' ' 

**  And  so  I  should,  sweetheart,  had  I  not  unluckily  started 
for  Holt  before  Ugo's  arrival  in  London.  Believe  me,  I  have 
hurried  to  you  on  the  wings  of  love  and  fear. ' ' 

** Heaven  be  thanked  you  are  not  too  late!"  exclaimed 
Catherine,  in  a  voice  that  thrilled  through  her  husband's 
frame.  **  But  you  must  see  our  babe,  Seymour.  'Tis  a  pretty 
flower!" 

**Does  your  Majesty  desire  me  to  bring  the  little  cherub 
here  ?  ' '    asked  Lady  Tyrwhyt. 

^'Ay,  do,"  rejoined  Catherine.     '*  My  lord  must  see  it." 

On  this,  Lady  Tyrwhyt  left  the  room,  and  shortly  after- 
wards returned  accompanied  by  a  nurse  bearing  a  large  velvet 
pillow  in  her  arms,  on  which  the  infant  was  laid,  very  richly 
attired.  As  the  admiral  bent  down  to  gaze  upon  its  tiny 
features,  it  opened  its  eyes  and  seemed  to  smile  upon  him. 

*'  Bless  its  dear  heart !"  exclaimed  the  nurse.  **  It  seems 
to  know  your  Highness. '  * 

*'  'Tis  a  very  pretty  infant !"  said  the  admiral.  **  But  I 
would  rather  have  had  a  boy. ' ' 


380  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  III 

"I  am  sure  your  Highness  has  no  cause  to  complain/* 
said  the  nurse,  sharply.     **  A  sweeter  babe  was  never  seen." 

"How  shall  we  name  her,  Kate?"  said  the  admiral. 
^' After  yourself?" 

*'No,  not  after  me,"  she  rejoined.  ''Nor  yet  after  the 
Princess  Elizabeth,"  she  was  about  to  add.  But  she  checked 
herself,  and  a  blush  overspread  her  pale  features,  and  be- 
trayed her  secret.  '*Let  her  be  called  Mary.  'Tis  a  name 
I  love.  You  will  be  a  fond  father  to  her,  Seymour,  when  I 
am  gone. ' ' 

*  *  I  trust  you  will  live  to  see  her  come  to  years  of  woman- 
hood; ay,  and  well  married." 

'*May  she  be  happily  married!"  exclaimed  Catherine, 
with  a  sigh.  ''Better  she  should  die  single  than  wed  to 
grandeur  and  misery  ! ' ' 

She  then  gazed  wistfully  at  the  child  for  some  moments, 
and  exclaimed : 

**  Heaven  bless  thee,  my  babe  1  May  thy  lot  be  happier 
than  thy  mother's.  Take  her  hence,  good  nurse.  And  leave 
me,  all  of  you,"  she  added  to  the  others,  "  I  desire  to  speak 
with  my  husband. ' ' 

Her  women  having  placed  her  in  her  chair,  and  arranged 
all  matters  for  her  convenience,  quitted  the  room.  For  some 
little  time  after  they  were  alone  there  was  a  profound  silence, 
which  neither  seemed  inclined  to  break.  At  last,  the  queen 
said: 

"I  shall  not  live  long,  Seymour.  This  will  not  be  very 
afflicting  news  to  you,  for  I  am  certain  you  are  anxious  to  get 
rid  of  me." 

"  Nay,  sweetheart,  you  wrong  me  !  On  my  soul  you  do," 
cried  the  admiral.      " I  have  no  such  wish." 

"  I  am  not  to  be  deceived,"  said  Catherine,  looking  at  him 
fixedly ;  "  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me  that  you  may  wed  Eliza- 
beth. Do  not  seek  to  deny  it.  I  know  it  is  so.  But  mark 
me,  Seymour !  mark  what  I  say  to  you !     That  unhallowed 


Chap.  Iin  SEYMOUR  A   WIDOWER  381 

marriage  will  never  be ! "  And  with  a  solemnity  which 
awed  and  almost  appalled  him,  she  added,  *'In  her  dead 
father's  name  I  forbid  it — in  my  own  name  I  forbid  it.  If 
you  proceed  further  in  this  matter  you  will  incur  Heaven's 
vengeance.  Delude  not  yourself  by  the  supposition  that  by 
crime  you  can  accomplish  your  purpose." 

*'By  crime  !"  exclaimed  the  admiral.  **  What  mean  you 
by  that  dark  suggestion,  Catherine  ?  Surely  you  do  not  sus- 
pect that  I  would  harm  you  ? ' ' 

*'  I  have  not  been  fairly  dealt  with,"  she  replied. 

'  *  Say  by  whom  !  Give  words  to  your  suspicions  at  once, ' ' 
cried  the  admiral.      *  *  What  has  been  done  to  you  ? ' ' 

*' Poison  has  been  administered  tome,"  rejoined  Cathe- 
rine.     '*  Heaven  pardon  you  if  it  was  done  by  your  order." 

"Poison!"  exclaimed  Seymour,  horror-stricken.  "Is  it 
possible  you  can  suspect  me  of  so  foul  a  deed?  So  far  from 
desiring  your  death,  I  would  lay  down  my  life  for  you.  But 
it  is  a  delusion  by  which  you  are  possessed.  You  are  labor- 
ing under  a  severe  and  torturing  illness,  and  attribute  your 
sufferings  to  wrong  causes." 

"  It  is  no  delusion,  Seymour,"  she  replied.  "lam  cer- 
tain that  poison  has  been  given  me." 

"  But  by  whom ? — whom  do  you  suspect?  " 

"  My  suspicions  attach  to  your  confidential  servant,  Ugo. 
'Twas  by  his  hand,  I  am  sure,  and  no  other,  that  the  subtle 
poison  was  administered. ' ' 

"  But,  even  supposing  him  capable  of  such  a  crime,  how 
could  he  find  the  means  of  accomplishing  it  unobserved? 
No,  no,  Catherine  !     You  wrong  him — indeed  you  do  ! " 

'  *  Heaven  forgive  me,  if  I  do  wrong  him  ! — and  Heaven 
forgive  him,  if  he  be  guilty  as  I  think  him  !  But  he  had  the 
opportunity  of  perpetrating  the  crime.  Before  starting  on 
his  journey  to  you  he  was  alone  with  me  for  a  few  minutes  in 
this  chamber.  The  cup  containing  my  potion  was  within  his 
reach )  and  I  am  certain — as  certain  as  if  I  had  seen  him  do 


382  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOJVER  [Book  III 

it — that  he  mingled  poison  with  the  drink,  for  I  had  not  long 
swallowed  it  when  I  became  a  prey  to  dreadful  tortures. ' ' 

' '  But  did  you  not  mention  your  suspicions  to  Hewke  ? ' ' 

"No,"  she  replied.  ''I  bore  my  sufferings  in  silence, 
because  I  felt  that  if  I  accused  Ugo,  the  charge  would  fall  on 
your  head.  What  motive  could  Ugo  have  for  my  destruction  ? 
Why  should  he  desire  my  death  ?  He  is  merely  your  instru- 
ment." 

'  *  Oh  !  Catherine,  I  implore  you  not  to  think  me  capable 
of  injuring  you  !  But  I  still  believe  you  are  in  error.  You 
will  speedily  get  well  again,  and  then  you  will  acquit  Ugo 
and  myself  of  the  terrible  crime  you  impute  to  us.  * ' 

^'Ifl^o  get  well,  I  will  acquit  you,  my  lord,  and  humbly 
implore  your  pardon.  But  there  is  no  hope  for  me.  I  am 
sinking  fast.  Ere  many  hours  you  will  have  no  wife  to 
trouble  you." 

*  *  I  trust  your  fears  will  not  be  realized,  Catherine,  but  that 
you  may  live  for  many  years  to  bless  me. ' ' 

* '  Such  words,  earlier  uttered,  might  have  effected  my  cure. 
But  they  are  too  late  now.  Let  me  speak  to  you  while 
strength  is  left  me,  and  may  Heaven  give  you  grace  to  profit 
by  my  counsel.  That  I  owe  my  death  to  your  expressed 
wishes  is,  I  fear,  too  true." 

' '  Oh  !  Catherine,  I  beseech  you  to  dismiss  these  cruel  and 
unjust  suspicions  !" 

' '  I  cannot  dismiss  them.  They  have  grown  to  conviction. 
Listen  to  me,  Seymour.  You  know  how  deeply  I  have  loved 
you,  and  what  sacrifices  I  have  made  for  you.  You  know 
that  I  have  ever  been  a  faithful  and  obedient  wife." 

'*  You  have  ! — you  have  !"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  will  not  reproach  you.  I  will  not  recall  your  harsh 
usage — your  neglect — almost  abandonment.  I  refer  to  your 
treatment  of  me  only  to  say  that  I  forgive  you.  But  my 
latest  words  to  you  must  be  words  of  warning.  I  know  you 
are  conspiring  against  the  state — that  you  meditate  some  des- 


Chap.  Iin  SEYMOUR  A   WIDOWER  383 

perate  attempt  against  the  government — and  that  by  plunging 
the  kingdom  into  civil  war  you  hope  to  overthrow  and  sup- 
plant your  brother.  Be  warned  by  me,  Seymour.  If  you 
persist  in  these  criminal  designs,  you  will  come  to  a  terrible 
and  bloody  ending.  Be  warned,  I  say,  and  abandon  them 
while  there  is  yet  time.  Devote  yourself  to  Heaven,  and 
strive  by  penitence  and  prayer  to  expiate  your  many  and 
deep  offences  !  Obey  no  longer  the  impulses  of  pride  and  am- 
bition, which  will  lead  you  to  certain  destruction,  but  give 
yourself  up  to  holy  meditation.     Will  you  do  this  ? ' ' 

'*  I  can  make  no  such  promise,  Catherine.  If  I  did,  I 
might  not  keep  it." 

*'Alas  !  alas  !  then  you  are  lost.  Yet  let  me  try  to  move 
you." 

**You  will  try  in  vain,"  he  rejoined.  '*  My  purpose  is 
fixed." 

**And  what  do  you  hope  to  gain,  Seymour? " 

*'  The  second  place  in  the  kingdom.    Perchance  the  first." 

"You  deceive  yourself,"  she  rejoined,  with  a  solemn  and 
almost  prophetic  look.  **  Your  efforts  will  only  conduct  you 
to  the  scaffold.  Bethink  you  of  my  warning  when  you  are 
brought  thither." 

*'  I  am  not  to  be  deterred  from  my  course  by  idle  fancies," 
he  rejoined.  * '  I  know  the  risk  I  run,  and  am  not  appalled 
by  it.  I  learned  to  consider  life  uncertain  in  the  days  of  your 
former  husband,  Catherine.  What  fate  may  have  in  store  for 
rae  I  cannot  tell.  It  may  be  increase  of  power — or  it  may 
be  the  headsman's  axe.  But  my  resolution  is  taken.  I  go 
on." 

^ '  Heaven  pardon  you  !  and  soften  your  heart ! ' '  murmured 
Catherine.  '  *  But  do  not  refuse  my  dying  request,  Se5niiour. 
'Tis  the  last  I  shall  ever  make  to  you." 

**  What  is  it  ?  "  he  rejoined. 

"  Abandon  all  thoughts  of  Elizabeth.  Seek  not  her  hand. 
Promise  me  this  ! — oh  !  promise  it  to  me. ' ' 


384  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  III 

But  Seymour  was  silent,  and  averted  his  head. 

**  Will  you  not  promise  it?  "  she  cried,  imploringly. 

**I  cannot,"  he  replied. 

The  poor  queen  fell  backwards,  and  for  some  moments  re- 
mained silent. 

**Have  you  any  further  injunctions  for  me,  Catherine?" 
inquired  Seymour. 

'*  Only  this,"  she  replied.  '*  Be  kind  to  the  little  innocent 
I  have  so  lately  brought  into  the  world.  I  do  not  think  it 
will  live  long  to  trouble  you. ' ' 

*  *  While  I  am  spared  to  watch  over  it,  it  shall  never  want  a 
father's  love.  But  you  indulge  in  sad  forebodings,  Catherine, 
none  of  which,  I  trust,  will  be  realized.  Have  a  better  heart 
in  regard  to  yourself.  You  are  not  so  dangerously  ill  as  you 
suppose. ' ' 

**A11  is  well-nigh  over  with  me,  Seymour,"  she  groaned. 
*'Give  me  your  hand.  Mine  has  been  a  wretched  life,  and 
I  am  not  sorry  it  draws  to  a  close.  Vainly  have  I  looked  for 
happiness  in  the  married  state — in  each  instance  I  have  been 
disappointed,  but  in  none  so  deeply  and  so  woefully  as  in  the 
last.  The  disappointment  has  been  all  the  more  bitter  be- 
cause I  expected  so  much.  Who  would  believe  that  one  so 
richly  graced  in  mind  and  body  as  you,  Seymour,  could  be  so 
faithless,  so  cruel?  Even  Henry's  tyranny  has  been  less  ter- 
rible than  yours. ' ' 

* '  What  have  I  done,  Catherine  ?  ' '  cried  Seymour,  dis- 
tractedly.     "  What  have  I  done  ?  " 

*  *  You  have  killed  me, ' '  she  replied,  raising  herself  by  a 
last  effort,  and  fixing  her  eyes  upon  him,  '*  if  not  by  poison, 
by  unkindness. ' ' 

'*0h!  unsay  your  words,  Catherine,"  he  exclaimed. 
**  Recall  that  dreadful  accusation." 

But  it  was  out  of  her  power  to  recall  it.  The  fierce  light 
that  burnt  for  a  moment  in  her  eyes  became  suddenly  extinct 
— the  hue  of  her  features  changed  to  that  of  death,  and  with  a 


Chap.  Iin  SEYMOUR  A  WIDOWER  385 

groan  she  sank  backwards.  The  unhappy  queen's  troul)les 
were  over. 

With  a  loud  cry  Seymour  flung  himself  on  his  knees  beside 
her,  and,  clasping  her  hand,  cried  in  a  lamentable  voice, 
*  *  Look  down  upon  me,  Catherine,  and  forgive  me  !  ' ' 

His  grief  was  real.  His  nature  was  not  all  evil,  and  the 
good  within  was  for  the  moment  touched.  A  prey  to  keenest 
self-reproach,  if  it  had  been  in  his  power  to  recall  his 
unhappy  wife  to  existence,  at  that  moment  he  would  have 
done  so. 

So  overpowered  was  he  by  anguish  and  remorse  that  he  was 
unconscious  of  the  entrance  of  the  physician,  accompanied  by 
Lady  Tyrwhyt,  and  others  of  the  queen's  women.  Instantly 
perceiving  that  all  was  over,  Doctor  Hewke  communicated 
the  sad  intelligence  to  Lady  Tyrwhyt  and  the  rest,  praying 
them  not  to  give  loud  expression  to  their  grief.  But  they 
were  too  strongly  attached  to  their  royal  mistress  to  be  able 
thus  to  control  themselves,  and  the  chamber  resounded  with 
doleful  cries. 

At  last  Hewke  approached  the  admiral,  and  said,  *'  If  your 
Highness  will  be  governed  by  me  you  will  withdraw  for  a 
while  to  your  own  chamber,  and  leave  the  care  of  what  was 
the  queen  to  her  women. ' ' 

' '  I  will  obey  you,  good  master  Hewke, ' '  replied  Sejrmour, 
rising. 

'  '■  Her  Grace,  I  trust,  had  an  easy  ending  ? ' '  said  Lady 
Tyrwhyt,  speaking  through  her  tears. 

'*  A  very  easy  ending,"  replied  Seymour.  **  Heaven  have 
mercy  upon  her  soul !  ' ' 

"  As  Heaven  assuredly  will,"  replied  Lady  Tyrwhyt.  **A 
worthier  lady  never  trod  the  earth. ' ' 

*'You  are  right,"  rejoined  Seymour.  **I  discern  her 
merits  more  clearly  since  I  have  lost  her.  I  commit  her  to 
your  charge." 

With  this  he  withdrew  to  his  own  chamber  and  shut  him- 
25 


386  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  iBook  III 

self  within  it  for  some  time.  At  last  Ugo  ventured  to  present 
himself,  and  inquired  whether  he  could  do  anything  for  him. 
Seymour  sternly  replied  in  the  negative. 

*'  Hath  your  Highness  no  directions  to  give  me?  "  pursued 
Ugo. 

**  None  whatever,"  replied  Seymour. 

**  Hum !  I  expected  to  see  your  Highness  in  a  different 
frame  of  mind  now  that  you  are  freed  from  your  fetters." 

'*  Out  of  my  sight,  caitiff!  "  exclaimed  Seymour,  fiercely. 

**Is  this  all  the  return  I  am  to  get  for  serving  you?" 
demanded  Ugo. 

*'Thy  reward  ought  to  be  the  gallows,"  rejoined  the 
admiral.     ''  Begone  !  and  come  near  me  no  more." 

On  this  Ugo  withdrew,  muttering  as  he  went  away,  "  He 
will  be  in  a  different  mood  to-morrow. ' ' 

Whether  the  admiral  really  felt  the  profound  affliction  he 
continued  to  display  may  be  doubted.  But,  at  all  events,  he 
imposed  upon  his  attendants,  who  believed  that  he  sincerely 
deplored  the  consort  he  had  lost. 

The  remains  of  the  unhappy  queen  were  interred  with 
much  ceremony  within  the  beautiful  chapel  appertaining  to 
the  castle,  and  many  a  tear  was  shed  upon  the  marble 
slab  covering  her  grave.  The  pretty  babe  she  had  left  was 
most  carefully  tended ;  but  though  the  little  creature  survived 
its  father,  it  was  nipped  in  the  bud. 

The  admiral  remained  at  Sudley  Castle  in  retirement  for  a 
month,  at  the  expiration  of  which  term  he  returned  to  Sey- 
mour House,  accompanied  by  Ugo,  who  by  this  time  was 
fully  restored  to  favor. 


Chap.  11^}    SEYMOUR'S  PROPOSAL  TO  ELIZABETH  387 


CHAPTER  IV 

HOW  THE  ADMIRAL  PROPOSED  A  SECRET  MARRIAGE  TO 
THE  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH 

Edward  had  been  much  grieved  by  the  death  of  Queen 
Catherine,  to  whom  he  was  sincerely  attached,  and  immedi- 
ately after  his  uncle's  return  to  Seymour  House  he  called 
to  condole  with  him  upon  his  loss.  The  lord  protector  like- 
wise paid  his  brother  a  similar  visit,  as  did  all  the  principal 
nobility.  Unfeigned  regret  indeed  was  felt  by  the  whole 
court,  as  well  as  by  the  public  at  large,  for  the  queen,  who 
was  greatly  beloved  and  respected. 

The  whole  of  the  admiral's  large  household  was  put  into 
mourning,  and  he  himself  appeared  clad  in  habiliments  of 
deepest  woe.  But  whatever  external  symbols  of  grief  he 
might  assume,  and  however  much  he  might  profess  to  regret 
the  queen,  it  is  quite  certain  that  by  this  time  his  chief 
anxiety  was  to  provide  himself  with  another  bride,  and  that 
his  thoughts  turned  towards  the  Princess  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth  was  then  residing  at  Hatfield,  and  thither,  about 
a  month  after  his  return  to  town,  the  admiral  rode,  attended 
only  by  Ugo.  His  visit  was  not  unexpected,  the  princess 
having  been  prepared  for  it  by  a  letter.  She  received  him 
very  graciously,  and  after  some  little  discourse.  Mistress 
Ashley,  by  whom  she  was  attended,  discreetly  withdrew. 
No  sooner  were  they  alone  together,  than  the  admiral,  fling- 
ing himself  on  his  knees  before  her,  and  seizing  her  hand, 
exclaimed,  in  passionate  tones : 

**I  am  come  to  claim  you,  Elizabeth.  There  is  now  no 
obstacle  to  our  union.  The  bar  that  stood  between  us  is 
removed.      You  will  be  mine — mine  !" 


388  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  iBook  III 

"Not  clandestinely,  as  you  propose  in  your  letter,  my 
lord,"  she  rejoined.  **I  will  never  consent  to  secret  nup- 
tials, such  as  took  place  between  you  and  the  queen.  On  that 
I  am  decided,  so  you  will  strive  in  vain  to  move  me. ' ' 

'*Your  decision  amounts  to  a  refusal,"  cried  Seymour. 
"Were  I  to  demand  your  hand  formally  in  marriage,  neither 
the  lord  protector,  nor  the  council,  nor  even  the  king,  your 
brother,  would  consent.  Such  an  attempt  would  be  mad- 
ness, and  would  effectually  frustrate  our  object.  You  have 
often  told  me  you  hoped  the  time  would  come  when  we  might 
be  free  to  wed  each  other.  The  happy  moment  has  arrived. 
Why  postpone  it?  If  you  love  me  as  much  as  ever,  why 
should  we  not  be  secretly  united,  and  await  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity of  avowing  the  marriage  ?  ' ' 

' '  Because  such  a  course  would  be  unworthy  of  a  daughter 
of  Henry  the  Eighth,"  replied  Elizabeth,  proudly.  "A 
secret  marriage  brought  little  happiness  to  the  queen,  your 
late  consort,  and  might  bring  less  to  me;  but  be  that  as 
it  might,  I  will  not  make  the  experiment.  My  hand  must  be 
formally  demanded. ' ' 

' '  Of  whom  ?  ' '  said  Seymour. 

"  Of  the  executors  of  my  royal  father's  will." 

'  'And  what  answer  do  you  expect  them  to  return  ?  Such  a 
demand  on  my  part  would  be  treated  with  scorn,  and  I  should 
be  sharply  rebuked  for  my  presumption. ' ' 

"  Do  you  not  perceive,  my  lord,  that  you  are  arguing 
against  yourself?  If  your  demand  is  sure  to  be  treated  with 
scorn  by  the  council  and  the  lord  protector,  ought  I  not 
to  adopt  a  like  tone  ?  Ought  I  not  to  treat  your  offer  as  pre- 
sumptuous ? ' ' 

"  Princess  !"  exclaimed  Seymour. 

"  Ought  I  not  to  say,  '  You  forget  yourself,  my  lord.  You 
are  no  fitting  husband  for  Elizabeth  Tudor,  daughter  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  of  glorious  memory,  and  second  inheritor  of  the 
crown  ? '     This  is  what  I  ought  to  say — and  what  I  sAa//  say, 


Chap.  /K]    SEYMOUR'S  PROPOSAL  TO  ELIZABETH  389 

if  you  continue  to  urge  your  insulting  proposition — for  such 
I  must  regard  it — of  a  clandestine  marriage." 

''Then  there  is  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  withdraw  alto- 
gether," said  Seymour,  rising.  '*  That  I  have  been  presump- 
tuous, I  own — but  it  is  your  encouragement  that  has  made  me 
so.  You  told  me  you  loved  me — and  promised — solemnly 
promised — to  be  mine. '  * 

'*And  so  I  will  be  yours,  my  lord,  when  you  dare  claim  my 
hand  in  the  face  of  the  world — not  otherwise,"  rejoined 
Elizabeth. 

**  What  would  you  have  me  do  ?  "  cried  Seymour.  *'  Show 
me  the  way  to  win  you.  I  will  shrink  from  nothing — I  will 
dare  anything  so  that  my  guerdon  may  be  your  hand.  But  it 
is  idle  to  make  a  demand  which  will  only  be  met  by  a  re- 
fusal." 

* '  Place  yourself  in  such  a  position,  my  lord,  that  your  de- 
mand must  be  acceded  to,"  rejoined  Elizabeth.  **  You  once 
told  me  your  ambition  soared  to  such  a  height  that  you  would 
be  second  to  no  one  in  the  realm,  except  the  king.  That 
point  attained,  the  council  could  not  withhold  their  consent, 
for  they  must  necessarily  do  your  bidding  as  they  now  do  that 
of  the  Duke  of  Somerset. ' ' 

'*And  by  Heaven!  I  will  attain  it,"  cried  the  admiral. 
*'Nor  will  I  renew  my  proposition  till  it  can  be  certainly 
carried  out  in  the  manner  you  desire.  * ' 

'*  In  that  case  my  hand  shall  be  yours,"  replied  Elizabeth  ; 
*'and  my  promise  will  be  as  binding  to  me  as  if  I  were  sol- 
emnly afhanced  to  you.  I  have  never  loved  anyone  but 
yourself,  my  lord,  and  am  not  likely  to  change.  If  I  wed  not 
you,  I  will  wed  no  other." 

**And  I  will  either  win  you  for  my  bride  or  lay  my  head 
upon  the  block,"  cried  Seymour.  "Hear  me,  Elizabeth! 
I  have  a  great  and  daring  project  in  hand,  which,  if  it  suc- 
ceeds— and  that  it  will  succeed  I  nothing  doubt — ^will  set  me 
in  the  position  you  would  have  me  occupy.    It  is  not  needful 


390  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

that  I  should  be  more  explicit.  You  will  understand  the  sort 
of  enterprise  on  which  I  am  engaged. ' ' 

**  You  have  said  enough  to  satisfy  me  it  is  full  of  peril.** 

"All  such  enterprises  must  be  hazardous.  But  I  have  no 
fear.  And  I  have  now  a  double  incitement  to  go  on.  My 
preparations  will  be  speedily  completed.  When  they  are, 
you  will  hear  of  events  that  will  surprise  you. ' ' 

'*  In  this  enterprise  you  have  no  design  against  the  king, 
my  brother  ? '  * 

'*  None,**  rejoined  Seymour.  *'  My  sole  aim  is  against  the 
lord  protector.  I  want  his  post.  And  since  he  will  not  yield 
it  peaceably,  I  mean  to  take  it.  *  Twill  be  a  death-struggle 
between  us.** 

"And  you  mean  to  strike  this  blow  speedily? ** 

"As  speedily  as  may  be.  In  a  few  weeks — perhaps  in  a  few 
days.  We  must  not  meet  again  till  the  struggle  is  over.  I 
would  not  have  you  compromised.  Should  I  fall,  will  you 
sometimes  bestow  a  thought  upon  me,  Elizabeth  ?  *  * 

She  made  no  reply,  but  fell  upon  his  bosom.  Straining  her 
in  his  arms,  he  bade  her  a  passionate  farewell ;  then  tore  him- 
self from  her  embrace,  rushed  out  of  the  room,  mounted  his 
steed,  and  returned  with  his  esquire  to  London. 


CHAPTER  V 


HOW  THE  ADMIRAL  SOUGHT  TO  GAIN  POSSESSION 
OF  THE  TOIVER 

We  must  pass  on  to  the  early  part  of  January,  1 549.  Ever 
since  his  interview  with  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  which  had 
lighted  an  inextinguishable  fire  in  his  breast,  the  admiral  had 
been  actively  engaged  in  preparing  his  plans,  and  had  now, 


Chap,  r]  SEYMOUR'S  PLOT  DEyELOPED  391 

as  he  conceived,  well-nigh  brought  them  to  maturity.  The 
daring  nature  of  his  project  will  be  understood  from  a  conver- 
sation which  occurred  about  this  time  between  him  and  his 
confidant,  Ugo,  who  had  just  returned  from  Bristol,  where  he 
had  been  to  procure  a  large  sum  of  money  from  Sir  William 
Sharington. 

**  How  much  hast  thou  brought  me,  Ugo  ?  "  demanded  the 
admiral ;   * '  the  whole  ten  thousand  pounds,  I  hope  ?  ' ' 

**Only  a  thousand  pounds,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  lord," 
replied  the  esquire.  **But  Sir  William  promises  the  re- 
mainder in  a  few  days. ' ' 

'*  Curses  on  him  for  the  delay  !  "  cried  the  admiral,  with  a 
look  of  disappointment.  '*I  want  all  the  money  I  can  get 
together.  I  am  drained  at  every  pore,  and  unless  I  continue 
to  pay  them,  my  adherents  will  drop  off.  My  coffers  are 
well-nigh  exhausted,  and  how  to  replenish  them  I  cannot  tell. 
That  wreck  on  the  Cornish  coast  only  produced  a  few  hun- 
dred pounds,  and  the  Spanish  galleon,  which  Hombeak  and 
Blades  ought  to  have  secured,  has  slipped  out  of  their  hands. 
I  lack  treasure,  Ugo,  and  must  have  it." 

"Your  Highness  must  be  content  to  wait  till  Sharington  is 
able  to  supply  you,  or  till  some  prizes  fall  into  your  hands. 
We  have  been  rather  unlucky  of  late ;  but  doubtless  fortune 
will  change." 

**  I  cannot  afford  to  wait.  Ten  thousand  men  are  ready  to 
rise  when  I  give  them  the  signal — but  I  want  wherewithal  to 
pay  and  maintain  them. ' ' 

**You  have  enough  for  present  purposes,  methinks,  my 
lord,"  rejoined  Ugo ;  '*  and  your  men  will  pay  and  maintain 
themselves,  if  you  will  let  them." 

''I  would  not  have  them  plunder,"  said  the  admiral. 
'*  Yet  I  see  not  how  it  can  be  avoided.  I  have  an  important 
post  for  thee,  Ugo,  and  I  know  thou  wilt  discharge  it  well." 

*'What  is  it,  my  lord?" 

*'No  less  than  the  command  of  Holt  Castle.     Thou  must 


392  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Booh  III 

hold  it  in  my  name  when  the  rising  takes  place.  The  fortress 
has  five  hundred  men,  and  is  well  provided  with  stores  and 
ammunition." 

**  I  am  aware  of  that,  my  lord,  and  feel  the  importance  of 
the  trust  you  confide  in  me.** 

'*  I  have  partisans  in  Cheshire,  Lancashire,  and  Yorkshire, 
who  will  rouse  the  disaffected  in  those  counties, ' '  pursued  the 
admiral.  '*  My  adherents  are  also  numerous  and  strong  in 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk;  and  in  Gloucestershire  and  Wiltshire,  as 
thou  knowest,  there  are  hundreds  who  will  flock  round  my 
standard  when  it  is  raised.  The  insurrection  will  be  general 
and  simultaneous. ' ' 

*'  But  how  is  the  signal  for  it  to  be  given,  my  lord?  "  in- 
quired Ugo. 

**  Thou  shalt  hear.  My  first  object  is  to  secure  the  person 
of  my  royal  nephew — as  from  him  all  decrees  must  emanate 
— ^and  having  the  king  with  me,  I  can  defy  opposition.  At 
one  time  I  thought  of  carrying  him  off  to  Holt,  but  there  are 
many,  and  almost  insuperable,  difficulties  in  that  design, 
which  compelled  me  to  abandon  it,  and  I  have  since  con- 
ceived a  bolder  plan.  I  mean  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
Tower,  Ugo,  and  to  keep  the  king  within  it  till  all  shall  be 
accomplished. ' ' 

"A  bold  plan  indeed  !  "  exclaimed  Ugo.  **  But  how  does 
your  Highness  hope  to  obtain  possession  of  the  Tower  ? ' ' 

*'  Through  the  instrumentality  of  Sir  John  Gage,"  replied 
the  admiral. 

'*What,  has  Sir  John  Gage  joined  your  Highness?"  cried 
Ugo. 

"He  will  do,"  replied  the  admiral,  smiling  significantly. 
'*  We  will  suppose  the  Tower  gained — no  matter  how  or  by 
whom,"  he  said,  **and  the  king  secured  within  it.  My  first 
business  will  be  to  issue  a  proclamation  to  the  effect  that,  it 
having  been  discovered  that  the  document  purporting  to  be 
the  will  of  his  late  Majesty  is  false  and  fraudulent,  the  coun- 


Chap.  K]  SEYMOUR'S  PLOT  DEVELOPED  393 

cil  appointed  by  that  instrument  is  dissolved,  and  the  lord 
protector  deposed  from  his  office.  Furthermore,  that  the  lord 
protector  being  charged  with  high  treason  and  other  heinous 
crimes  and  misdemeanors,  shall,  with  his  abettors,  be  brought 
to  speedy  trial.  This  proclamation  will  be  the  signal  for  the 
rising. ' ' 

'*  Should  it  be  made,  it  will  doubtless  produce  the  effect 
anticipated  by  your  Highness — but  how  will  you  prove  the 
charge  you  intend  to  make  against  the  lord  protector? — 
how  will  you  show  that  the  king's  will  was  fraudulently 
prepared  ? ' ' 

' '  By  producing  the  confession  of  Doctor  Butts,  who  aided 
in  the  scheme,"  said  Seymour.  **Thou  mayst  remember 
that  I  intrusted  a  packet  to  thee  some  while  ago,  Ugo,  charg- 
ing thee  to  deliver  it  to  the  queen  in  case  of  need.  That 
packet  contained  the  confession." 

*  *  Indeed  ! "  he  exclaimed.  * '  Would  I  had  known  it ! "  he 
added,  to  himself. 

'* Butt's  confession  did  me  some  service  then,"  continued 
the  admiral,  with  a  laugh.  **But  it  shall  do  me  more  ere 
long.  What  will  the  people  say,  think  you,  when  they  learn 
that  the  lord  protector  has  risen  to  greatness  by  means  like 
this?  Will  they  support  him?  No  !  his  cause  will  instantly 
be  abandoned;  his  followers  will  shrink  from  him,  and 
deliver  him  up  to  justice. '  * 

"It  may  be  so,"  rejoined  Ugo,  thoughtfully. 

'*May  be! — I  tell  thee  it  will!'"  cried  the  admiral. 
''Let  Somerset  look  well  to  his  seat,  if  he  would  keep  it,  for 
many  hands  will  ere  long  be  eager  to  pluck  him  from  it." 

"Your  plan  promises  well,  I  must  needs  own,  my  lord," 
said  Ugo.  "  But  you  have  not — as  far  as  I  understand — yet 
gained  over  the  constable  of  the  Tower. ' ' 

"  But  I  shall  do  so,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "  I  will  forth- 
with set  about  the  task.  Sir  John  is  now  at  the  Tower. 
I  will  go  thither  at  once,  and  thou  shalt  accompany  me." 


394  77/£  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  III 

**  I  pray  your  Highness  to  excuse  me.  I  have  some  slight 
matters  of  mine  own  to  see  to. ' ' 

'*  Well,  as  thou  wilt.  But  get  thy  business  done,  as  on  my 
return  I  may  need  thee. ' ' 

Ugo  bowed,  and  assisted  his  lord  to  put  on  his  cloak,  after 
which  the  admiral,  attended  by  a  dozen  stalwart  retainers 
armed  to  the  teeth,  without  whom  he  now  never  stirred 
abroad,  proceeded  to  Whitehall  stairs,  where  his  barge  was 
waiting  for  him,  and  entering  it,  ordered  the  men  to  row 
to  the  Tower. 

On  arriving  at  the  fortress,  he  found  that  Sir  John  was 
at  the  lieutenant's  lodgings.  Proceeding  thither,  and  stating 
that  he  desired  to  speak  with  the  constable  in  private,  he  was 
shown  into  a  large  chamber,  wainscoted  with  black  oak, 
where  state  delinquents  were  usually  examined,  and  where  Sir 
John  shortly  afterwards  joined  him. 

After  a  little  preliminary  discourse,  the  admiral  opened  his 
business. 

^ '  It  is  a  matter  of  the  utmost  importance  on  which  I  have 
come  to  you.  Sir  John,"  he  said,  *^and  concerns  the  welfare 
of  the  king  and  the  security  of  the  realm.  You  may  re- 
member that  you  and  I  were  excluded  from  the  late  king's 
presence  when  the  will  was  signed,  or  rather  stamped  ?  ' ' 

"  I  remember  the  circumstance  well  enough,"  rejoined  the 
constable.      ' '  What  of  it  ?  " 

*^\t  that  time  Henry  was  insensible,"  pursued  Seymour, 
"and  the  document  was  stamped  without  his  orders — nay, 
contrary  to  his  previously  expressed  wishes." 

'*  How  know  you  this,  my  lord  ?  " 

*'From  one  who  had  a  share  in  the  transaction,  but  who 
has  since  gone  to  his  account — Doctor  Butts.  He  wrote 
down  his  confession,  and  delivered  it  to  me.  That  the  truth 
of  the  statement  could  not  be  denied  by  Somerset  will  be 
apparent  when  I  tell  you  that  it  enabled  me  to  make  terms 
with  him  when  he  threatened  to  send  me  here  as  a  prisoner. 


Chap,  K]  SEYMOUR'S  PLOT  DEVELOPED  395 

If  Henry's  will  falls  to  the  ground,  all  that  has  been  based 
upon  it  falls  likewise.  All  the  arrangements  made  by  the 
protector  burst  like  a  bubble.  His  acts  are  illegal,  and  the 
council  is  at  an  end.  In  fact,  there  are  no  council  and 
no  protector." 

''  Then  let  the  matter  be,"  cried  the  constable.  **  Things 
have  gone  too  far  to  be  set  right  now. ' ' 

* '  You  are  mistaken,  good  Sir  John.  It  is  my  intention  to 
set  them  right,  and  I  want  your  assistance  in  the  task. ' ' 

*'Let  me  hear  what  you  propose  to  do,"  said  the  con- 
stable. 

**  I  mean  to  strike  a  blow  which  shall  annihilate  Somerset's 
usurped  authority.  But  while  this  is  done,  regard  must  be 
had  to  the  king's  safety.  We  must  have  him  in  the  Tower, 
Sir  John,  under  your  charge. ' ' 

*'And  when  you  have  got  him  here,  what  step  will  next  be 
taken?" 

*'A  proclamation  will  be  issued  in  his  majesty's  name,  dis- 
closing Somerset's  false  practices  in  regard  to  the  will,  and 
charging  him  and  his  abettors  with  high  treason — annulling 
all  their  acts,  depriving  them  of  their  posts,  and  appointing 
others  in  their  stead." 

'*  Chief  amongst  whom  will  doubtless  be  your  Highness?  " 

**Certes,  Sir  John.  Who  else  could  be  lord  protector? 
But  you  shall  not  be  forgotten.  You  shall  be  grand  master  or 
lord  great  chamberlain,  with  a  peerage." 

**As  the  price  of  my  desertion  of  your  brother  and  his 
friends?     Umph  !"   exclaimed  the  constable. 

**To  adhere  to  them  would  be  treason  to  the  king,"  said 
Seymour. 

' '  Nay,  I  can  scarce  view  it  in  that  light, ' '  rejoined  the 
constable.  **  But  you  do  not  think  that  such  a  change  as  you 
propose  will  be  accomplished  without  a  struggle — that  the 
Duke  of  Somerset  will  surrender  his  post  without  an  effort  to 
maintain  it  ?     Most  like  the  army  will  stand  by  him,  and  he 


396  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  U/ 

has  a  large  band  of  foreign  mercenaries  on  whom  he  can  cer- 
tainly count." 

^^  There  you  are  wrong,  Sir  John.  The  foreign  mercena- 
ries can  be  bought.  As  to  the  army,  we  must  take  our  chance. 
I  have  plenty  of  partisans  who  will  rise  when  I  give  them  the 
signal." 

''  Why,  this  is  downright  rebellion  !"  cried  the  constable. 
* '  We  shall  have  a  civil  war. ' ' 

**  Rebellion  against  whom — against  an  arch -traitor,  who 
has  too  long  usurped  the  chief  place  in  the  state.  'Tis  in  the 
king's  behalf  that  we  shall  fight,  and  not  against  him.  We 
shall  free  him  from  those  who  have  assumed  a  control  over 
him  for  which  they  have  no  title.  We  shall  unmask  treason, 
and  punish  it." 

*' Still,  I  am  not  satisfied,"  rejoined  the  constable.  "I 
like  not  the  plan  you  propose.  * ' 

**  But  if  I  bring  the  king  hither — will  you  deliver  the  fort- 
ress to  him  ?  Will  you  close  the  gates — ^and  put  the  place  in 
a  state  of  defence  ? ' ' 

' '  Were  his  majesty  himself  to  command  me  to  do  this,  I 
must  needs  obey.     But  I  do  not  think  he  will." 

'*  You  do  not  know  the  king  as  well  as  I  know  him,  Sir 
John.  I  will  bring  him  here  ere  many  days  are  over  our 
heads.     Be  prepared  to  act  as  he  shall  direct." 

**  I  make  no  promises, ' '  rejoined  the  constable ;  *'  and  if  my 
advice  were  likely  to  be  listened  to,  I  would  recommend  your 
lordship  to  proceed  no  further  with  your  design." 

'*  You  will  breathe  no  word  of  what  has  passed  between  us. 
Sir  John  ?  '  *  said  Seymour. 

*'  Fear  no  betrayal  on  my  part,"  rejoined  Gage.  "  I  will 
say  nothing  till  I  have  seen  the  king. ' ' 

Seeing  that  nothing  more  was  to  be  done  with  the  con- 
stable, Seymour  soon  afterwards  took  his  departure,  and,  re- 
entering his  barge,  was  rowed  back  to  Whitehall. 


Chap,  l^l]  UGO  IN  HIS  TRUE  GUISE  397 


CHAPTER   VI 


IN  IVHICH  UGO  HARRINGTON  APPEARS  IN  HIS  TRUE  COLORS 

While  the  admiral  was  engaged  at  the  Tower  in  the  manner 
just  related,  Ugo  Harrington  repaired  to  Whitehall,  with  the 
design  of  seeking  an  immediate  interview  with  the  Earl  of 
Warwick.  In  this  object  he  was  successful.  At  the  moment 
when  the  esquire  sought  him,  Warwick,  to  whom,  as  lord 
great  chamberlain,  a  suite  of  apartments  was  assigned  in 
the  palace,  was  alone  and  in  his  private  cabinet.  Some 
understanding  seemed  to  subsist  between  Ugo  and  the 
henchman,  since  they  did  not  detain  him  a  moment  in 
the  waiting-chamber,  but  ushered  him  at  once  into  the 
earl's  presence. 

Warwick,  who  was  seated  at  a  table,  writing,  received  his 
visitor  very  formally,  but  the  moment  they  were  alon6  to- 
gether his  manner  changed  to  one  of  great  familiarity. 

'*  I  see  by  the  expression  of  your  countenance  that  you 
bring  me  important  intelligence,"  he  remarked. 

'*  I  do,  my  lord,"  replied  Ugo.  *'  My  lord  is  gone  to  the 
Tower  to  endeavor  to  prevail  upon  the  constable  to  deliver 
the  fortress  up  to  him." 

**  Ha  !"  exclaimed  Warwick.  '*  Does  he  aim  at  that  ?  But 
he  will  fail.  Sir  John  Gage  is  as  true  as  steel,  and  will  never 
betray  his  trust.  But  how  stand  matters  now  ?  Is  the  time 
come  for  the  explosion  ? ' ' 

"  It  will  not  be  long  delayed,  my  lord,"  rejoined  Ugo. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  cried  Warwick,  rubbing  his  hands 
gleefully.  ''The  admiral  has  been  so  long  about  it  that  I 
have  got  quite  tired  with  waiting." 

"With  all  deference  to  your  Lordship,   I  think  you  are 


398  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  Jll 

wrong  in  your  calculations/*  said  Ugo.  '*  You  intend  to  let 
this  rising  take  place  ? '  * 

**1  do,"  replied  Warwick.  "I would  have  the  admiral 
commit  himself  irretrievably,  so  that  his  fall  may  be  cer- 
tain.'* 

**  *Tis  on  that  point  I  differ  with  your  Lordship.  Have 
you  never  considered  that  he  may  succeed?  His  plans  are 
well  organized." 

**  May  be  so,"  rejoined  Warwick.  **  But  the  insurrection 
will  be  instantly  crushed." 

**  I  do  not  think  so,"  said  Ugo,  '*  and  I  will  give  you  the 
grounds  of  my  opinion.  The  lord  protector,  as  you  know,  has 
lost  all  the  popularity  he  acquired  by  the  Scottish  war.  That 
is  one  point  in  my  lord's  favor.  In  the  struggle  which  is 
likely  to  arise  between  the  brothers,  the  king  is  certain  to  side 
with  his  younger  uncle.  This  alone  will  give  him  an  im- 
mense advantage.  But,  as  I  have  just  said,  my  lord's  plans 
are  so  well  taken  that  he  is  likely  to  come  off  victorious.  He 
himself  is  confident  of  success.  He  has  an  army  of  ten  thou- 
sand men,  ready  to  rise  at  his  signal,  and  friends  who  will 
treble  that  number.  The  leaders  of  the  German  lansquenets 
are  corrupted,  and  will  bring  over  their  men.  Moreover,  my 
lord  has  two  strong  castles.  Holt  and  Sudley,  the  former 
strongly  garrisoned  and  well  stored,  and  he  has  the  Scilly 
Islands  to  retire  to  in  case  of  need.  With  all  these  advantages, 
if  he  is  able  to  secure  the  person  of  the  king,  I  cannot  doubt 
his  success. '  * 

"Ay,  i/  he  could  secure  the  king,  I  grant  you  he  might 
succeed,"  rejoined  Warwick;  "  but  that  he  never  will  do." 

"Your  Lordship  underrates  his  power.  You  will  find  him 
a  far  more  formidable  foe  than  you  imagine.  If  he  should 
gain  the  day,  he  will  not  be  merely  content  with  supplanting 
the  protector,  but  will  overthrow  the  whole  government. 
What  if  he  should  be  able  to  set  aside  the  late  king's  will,  on 
the  ground  that  it  was  stamped  while  his  majesty  was  dying 


Chap.  VIl  UGO  IN  HIS  TRUE  GUISE  399 

and  incapable  of  speech  ?  Will  not  all  subsequent  acts  be- 
come illegal,  all  appointments  void? ** 

''Undoubtedly.     But  he  cannot  prove  this.** 

"  He  has  Doctor  Butts's  confession  of  the  whole  affair,  the 
production  of  which  will  condemn  the  lord  protector  to  the 
block,  and  will  drag  all  his  partisans — your  Lordship  amongst 
the  number — down  with  him." 

"Confusion  !  '*  exclaimed  Warwick,  rising  from  his  chair, 
and  hurriedly  pacing  the  room.  **  You  are  right,  Ugo.  The 
outbreak  must  never  take  place.  My  intention  was  to  let  the 
mine  explode,  certain  that  the  explosion  would  destroy  him, 
and  perchance  the  protector  likewise ;  but  I  now  see  it  would 
be  dangerous  to  myself.** 

"  I  felt  sure  your  Lordship  would  come  round  to  my  views. 
That  confession  is  a  terrible  weapon,  and  has  already  been 
used  with  great  effect.  Your  Lordship  will  easily  understand 
on  what  occasion.** 

"Ah,  I  see!'*  exclaimed  Warwick.  "Bring  that  docu- 
ment to  me  if  you  can,  Ugo ;  bring  it,  and  name  your  own 
fee.  Immediate  steps  must  be  taken  with  the  admiral.  I 
will  consult  with  my  colleagues  forthwith.  He  must  be 
arrested,  and  his  papers  seized.** 

"But  the  document  in  question  may  fall  into  wrong 
hands,'*  said  Ugo.  "Your  lordship  must  proceed  with  the 
utmost  caution.  My  lord  is  vigilant  and  alert,  and  will  not 
be  easily  taken.  He  never  moves  without  a  guard,  and  has 
more  than  three  hundred  armed  retainers  at  Seymour  House, 
who  will  defend  him  to  the  last.  If  he  escapes,  and  flies  to 
Sudley  or  Holt,  the  insurrection  will  break  out,  and  the 
whole  country  will  be  in  a  flame.  A  civil  war  will  be  the 
result.  His  arrest  should  be  made  when  he  is  wholly  unpre- 
pared. '  * 

"  It  shall  be  so,**  rejoined  Warwick.  "Yet,  if  he  be  ar- 
rested now,  what  proof  shall  we  be  able  to  bring  of  his  guilt  ? 
Will  you  bear  evidence  against  him  ? ' ' 


400  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

"If  I  am  interrogated  by  the  council  I  must  needs  an- 
swer/* replied  Ugo.  *'  But  the  best  course  to  pursue  will  be 
to  arrest  Sir  William  Sharington,  master  of  the  mint  at  Bris- 
tol, and  question  him  as  to  his  dealings  with  my  lord.  If  he 
proves  obstinate,  the  rack  will  make  him  speak,  and  you  will 
then  have  good  grounds  for  arresting  the  admiral.  Sharing- 
ton has  clipped  gold  and  silver,  coined  base  money,  and 
committed  other  frauds  at  my  lord's  instance  and  for  his 
benefit." 

"You  are  right,  Ugo.  We  will  begin  with  Sharington. 
Officers  shall  be  despatched  forthwith  to  Bristol  to  arrest  him, 
after  which  he  shall  be  clapped  in  the  Tower." 

"Be  careful  not  to  alarm  the  admiral,  my  lord,  or  your 
plan  will  be  defeated.  I  must  now  take  my  leave,  or  I 
myself  may  incur  suspicion.  Rely  on  my  watchfulness.  If 
I  can  purloin  Butt's  confession,  your  lordship  shall  have  it." 

So  saying,  Ugo  withdrew. 


CHAPTER  VII 

HOW  SIR  IVILLUM  SHARINGTON  IVAS  EXAMINED  BY  THE 
COUNCIL  AND  PUT  TO  THE  TORTURE 

Feeling  that  no  time  ought  to  be  lost,  Warwick  sought  out 
the  Lords  Russell  and  Arundel,  Sir  William  Paget,  and  some 
other  members  of  the  council  on  whom  he  could  rely,  and 
without  further  explanation  at  the  moment  than  that  he  had 
discovered  that  Sir  William  Sharington  had  been  guilty  of 
treasonable  frauds,  which  were  likely  to  implicate  a  personage 
of  importance,  he  at  once  obtained  their  sanction  to  his  arrest. 

The  warrant  was  signed,  and  given  by  Warwick  himself  to 
the  officers,  with  special  instructions,  and  such  despatch  was 


Chap,  VII]       SHARINGTON  PUT  TO  THE  RACK  401 

used  that  ere  the  following  morning  Sharington  was  brought  up 
to  London  and  lodged  in  the  Tower. 

On  the  same  day,  Warwick  and  the  council  repaired  to 
the  fortress,  and  assembling  together  at  the  lieutenant's  lodg- 
ings, had  the  prisoner  brought  before  them.  He  resolutely 
denied  the  charges  brought  against  him,  and  could  not  be  got 
to  make  any  admission  tending  to  criminate  the  admiral. 

Determined,  however,  not  to  be  foiled,  Warwick,  who,  as 
we  have  said,  conducted  the  examination,  menaced  him  with 
the  rack,  but  as  even  this  threat  proved  ineifectual,  he  ordered 
him  to  be  taken  to  the  torture -chamber,  and  the  question 
ordinary  and  extraordinary  to  be  applied. 

On  this  Sharington  was  removed  by  the  officers. 

The  council  remained  where  they  were,  awaiting  the  result 
of  the  application ;  but  more  than  an  hour  elapsed  before  the 
gaoler  reappeared. 

"Well,  have  you  subdued  his  obstinacy,  good  Master 
Tombs?  **   cried  Warwick.     '*  Will  he  speak  now  ?  " 

**Ay,  my  lord;  we  have  made  him  alter  his  tone,"  replied 
Tombs.  '*  But  it  required  some  shrewd  turns  of  the  rack  to 
shake  him.  Your  lordships  must  needs  go  to  him  if  you 
would  interrogate  him,  for  his  joints  have  been  so  stretched  by 
the  engine  that  he  cannot  move.  * ' 

Upon  this,  the  council  adjourned  to  the  torture-chamber; 
a  large  vault,  constructed  of  stone,  and  situated  midway 
between  the  Beauchamp  Tower  and  the  Devilin  Tower.  It 
was  approached  by  a  subterranean  passage  communicating 
with  the  lieutenant's  lodgings. 

This  damp  and  dismal  chamber,  the  aspect  of  which  was 
calculated  to  inspire  horror,  was  dimly  lighted  by  an  iron 
lamp,  suspended  by  a  chain  from  the  keystone  of  the  groined 
roof.  Dull  as  it  was,  however,  the  light  sufficed  to  reveal 
many  frightful  objects.  At  one  side  stood  the  hideous  appa- 
ratus on  which  the  prisoner  had  been  stretched — a  wooden 
frame,  containing  a  leathern  couch,  and  furnished  with  a 
26 


402  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [Book  III 

wheel,  cords,  and  roller.  The  walls  were  garnished  with 
thumb -screws,  pincers,  knives  of  strange  shape,  saws,  and 
Other  horrible-looking  implements. 

On  a  wooden  stool,  adjoining  the  rack,  was  placed  the  un- 
fortunate prisoner.  The  whole  of  his  habiliments  had  been 
removed  when  the  torture  was  applied,  and  they  could  not 
now  be  restored,  but  a  cloak  was  thrown  over  his  limbs.  His 
ghastly — almost  death-like — ^looks  showed  the  severe  suffering 
he  had  endured.  His  joints  had,  in  fact,  been  wrenched 
from  their  sockets  and  his  sinews  almost  cracked  by  the  terri- 
ble application.  He  was  supported  by  the  chirurgeon,  who 
was  bathing  his  temples  with  cold  water,  and  near  him  stood 
the  tormentor — an  uncouth,  powerfully-built  varlet,  with 
savage  features  and  a  great  fell  of  red  hair.  There  was 
another  person  who,  with  the  gaoler,  had  been  present  during 
the  proceeding.     This  was  Mauger,  the  headsman. 

As  the  council  entered  the  vault,  Sharington  made  a  vain 
attempt  to  lift  his  head.  The  effort  was  so  painful  that 
a  groan  burst  from  him.  None  of  the  council,  however, 
seemed  moved  by  the  unfortunate  man's  appearance,  but 
regarded  him  with  stern  and  inflexible  looks. 

*'Are  you  now  disposed  to  answer  our  questions  without 
equivocation  or  reserve  ? '  *  demanded  Warwick. 

**  I  am,"  replied  Sharington,  with  a  groan. 

"You  confess,  then,  that  you  have  defrauded  the  king's 
majesty  of  many  thousand  pounds  by  clipping  and  otherwise 
tampering  with  the  gold  and  silver  intrusted  to  your  charge, 
and  by  coining  base  money  ?  ** 

"I  own  it,"  rejoined  Sharington,  faintly. 

"By  whom  have  you  been  instigated  to  these  great  and 
treasonable  frauds?"  pursued  Warwick. 

"By  his  highness  the  lord  high  admiral,  to  whom  the 
greater  part  of  the  money  was  given,"  answered  Sharington. 

"This  is  your  solemn  declaration?"  demanded  War- 
wick. 


Chap,  yiin  THE  COUNTERPLOT  403 

*'  I  swear  it  to  be  the  truth/*  replied  the  prisoner. 

**Let  his  confession  be  taken  down,"  said  Warwick  to  a 
secretary,  who  was  in  attendance  with  writing  materials,  and 
who  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  rack  to  fulfil  the  earFs  be- 
hest. 

When  drawn  up,  the  confession  was  presented  to  the  pris- 
oner, who  with  the  greatest  difficulty  signed  it.  This  done, 
the  council  quitted  the  vault. 

"Sharington's  accomplice  must  be  next  arrested,**  ob- 
served Warwick  with  a  grim  smile  to  Lord  Russell,  as  they 
tracked  the  subterranean  passage. 


CHAPTER  Vin 


THE  COUNTERPLOT 

Hitherto,  Warwick  had  abstained  from  disclosing  to  the 
lord  protector  the  discoveries  he  had  made  relative  to  his 
brother's  treasonable  practices,  as  he  feared  the  irresolution 
manifested  by  Somerset  on  a  former  occasion  might  be  again 
displayed ;  but  now,  being  armed  with  proofs  positive  of  the 
admiral's  guilt,  he  resolved  to  lay  the  whole  matter  before  him. 

Accordingly,  a  special  meeting  of  the  council  was  appointed 
for  that  night,  intimation  of  which  being  given  to  the  Duke 
of  Somerset,  he  of  course  attended,  when  full  particulars  of 
this  gigantic  conspiracy  were  laid  before  him. 

Confounded  and  amazed  by  the  details,  Somerset  almost 
refused  to  credit  them ;  but  when  Sharington's  confession  was 
read,  he  could  no  longer  doubt.  Warwick's  statements  also 
were  corroborated  by  Ugo  Harrington,  who  was  brought  for- 
ward, and  who  revealed  all  he  knew  concerning  his  lord's 
proceedings. 


404  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  m 

A  long  deliberation  followed.  By  the  Earl  of  Southampton 
— who,  having  regained  Somerset's  favor,  had  again  joined 
the  council — and  Lord  Clinton,  it  was  proposed  that  Seymour 
should  be  at  once  arrested,  and  brought  before  them  for  ex- 
amination ;  but  against  this  it  was  urged,  chiefly  on  the  rep- 
resentation of  Ugo  Harrington,  that  the  most  determined  re- 
sistance would  be  offered  by  the  admiral — and  that  probably 
he  might  escape.  If  he  did  so,  and  succeeded  in  reaching 
either  of  his  castles,  an  insurrection,  which  it  might  be  diffi- 
cult, if  not  impossible,  to  crush,  was  sure  to  arise,  and  civil 
war  ensue. 

**  If  your  Highness  will  be  guided  by  me,"  said  Ugo,  ad- 
dressing the  protector,  * '  I  will  show  you  how  you  may  take 
him  without  difficulty,  and  effectually  prevent  any  popular 
disturbance." 

**  Let  us  hear  thy  plan  ?  "  rejoined  Somerset. 

**  Under  pretence  of  showing  his  majesty  some  new  pieces 
of  ordnance,  my  lord  hath  obtained  the  king's  promise  to  ac- 
company him  to  the  Tower  to-morrow.  Once  there,  he  will 
use  all  his  efforts  to  induce  his  majesty  to  change  his  present 
government,  and  he  hopes  to  succeed  by  representing  to  him 
that  his  royal  father's  will  was  fraudulently  stamped " 

**  Ha  !"  exclaimed  Somerset. 

**  Such  is  the  assertion  he  will  make, ' *  pursued  Ugo ;  "and 
he  proposes  to  support  it  by  some  confession  he  pretends  to 
have  obtained.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  hopes  to  prevail  upon 
the  king  to  remain  within  the  Tower,  and  to  give  him  the 
command  of  the  fortress  and  the  custody  of  his  person." 

**A  boldly-conceived  project,  on  my  faith!"  cried  War- 
wick; '*and,  if  the  king  consented,  might  prove  successful." 

"But  his  majesty  never  would  consent — of  that  I  am  cer- 
tain," said  Somerset. 

"  But  should  persuasion  fail,'*  pursued  Ugo,  '*  my  lord  will 
resort  to  force,  and  will  seize  upon  the  person  of  the  king, 
and  possess  himself  of  the  fortress. ' ' 


Chap,  yilll  THE  COUNTERPLOT  405 

"Hal  does  he  meditate  this  desperate  treason?"  ex- 
claimed the  protector.  **  But  'tis  a  rash  and  insane  design, 
which  none  but  he  would  conceive. ' ' 

'*  'Tis  not  so  rash  as  it  seems/*  replied  Ugo.  **He  will 
go  to  the  Tower  with  a  large  and  well-armed  escort — ^and 
he  has  many  friends  in  the  fortress  who  will  lend  him  their 
aid.  For  my  own  part,  I  nothing  doubt  his  ability  to  execute 
his  design." 

"What,  to  seize  upon  the  king  and  hold  the  Tower?" 
cried  Somerset. 

"Ay,  your  Highness,  hold  it  long  enough  to  change  the 
government,  * '  rejoined  Ugo.  *  *  But  with  proper  precautions 
there  will  be  no  danger,  and  my  lord  can  be  taken  in  his  own 
toils.  Here  is  a  list  of  his  adherents  in  the  Tower.  Let  all 
these  be  removed  without  delay,  and  trusty  officers  substi- 
tuted, and  no  fear  need  be  entertained.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
point  out  to  your  Highness,  and  to  the  lords  of  the  council 
how  the  arrest  should  be  made.  You  will  make  your  own 
decision.  But  once  within  the  Tower,  my  lord  ought  never 
to  go  forth  again — except  to  the  scaffold  on  Tower  Hill. '  * 

"The  trap  will  be  well  baited,"  said  Somerset,  "and  if 
caught  in  it,  he  shall  not  break  loose.  We  owe  thee  much  for 
thy  serviceable  disclosures.  Thou  hast  made  ample  amends 
for  any  share  thou  mayst  have  had  in  this  conspiracy,  and 
mayst  calculate  not  only  upon  pardon,  but  reward. ' ' 

" I  care  not  for  reward,  your  Highness,"  replied  Ugo ;  "I 
shall  be  satisfied  if  I  bring  Lord  Seymour  to  the  scaffold." 

"  What  hath  thy  lord  done  to  incur  such  deadly  animosity 
on  thy  part?"  asked  Lord  Russell. 

"Ask  me  not  to  publish  mine  own  shame,"  cried  Ugo, 
fiercely.  "  Enough  that  he  hath  inflicted  an  injury  upon  me 
which  can  only  be  washed  out  by  blood.  He  should  have 
died  by  my  hand  long  ago,  but  that  I  preferred  that  he 
should  die  on  the  scaffold. ' ' 

"  Thy  desire  will  be  gratified,"  said  Warwick. 


4o6  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

"After  the  disclosures  we  have  heard,'*  said  Somerset, 
"there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  existence  of  a  great  and  ter- 
rible conspiracy,  contrived,  I  lament  to  say,  by  my  own 
brother.  But  I  shall  close  my  heart  towards  him,  and  judge 
him  with  Roman  stoicism  and  severity.  Many  arrests  will 
have  to  be  made  to-morrow.  Are  there  any  others  whom 
thou  canst  denounce  ? '  *  he  added  to  Ugo. 

"  There  are  several  in  the  royal  household  who  are  in  his 
pay,"  replied  the  other,  "but  the  chief  of  them  is  Fowler,  a 
gentleman  of  the  privy-chamber. '  * 

"Whatl  has  Fowler  played  me  false?"  cried  the  pro- 
tector.    *  *  He  shall  be  arrested. ' ' 

"  If  your  Highness  will  cast  your  eye  over  this  list,**  said 
Ugo,  delivering  him  a  paper,  "  you  will  find  the  names  of  all 
such  nobles  as  belong  to  my  lord's  faction,  and  are  disaffected 
towards  yourself. ' ' 

"Foremost  among  them  I  find  the  Marquis  of  Dorset," 
returned  Somerset,  glancing  at  the  list.  "  He  shall  undergo 
examination,  as  shall  all  the  rest.  Hast  thou  aught  more  to 
disclose?** 

"  No,  your  Grace.     I  have  revealed  all  I  know." 

"Thou  art  free  then  to  depart,'*  said  the  protector.  "I 
need  not  bid  thee  be  cautious,  since  for  thy  own  sake  thou  art 
sure  to  be  so.  To-morrow  thou  wilt  accompany  the  admiral 
to  the  Tower.'* 

"  I  have  already  received  my  orders,'*  replied  Ugo. 

"  On  thy  arrival  there  I  will  find  means  of  secretly  com- 
municating with  thee,"  said  Somerset.  "None  of  us  will 
appear  until  the  right  moment,  and  then  only  when  least  ex- 
pected. ' ' 

"I  understand,  your  Grace."  And  with  a  profound 
obeisance  to  the  lord  protector  and  the  council,  he  departed. 

"  That  fellow  is  a  double-dyed  traitor,"  observed  Warwick ; 
"but  he  is  serviceable.  Without  him  this  conspiracy  would 
never  have  been  detected.** 


Chap.  IX'\      THE  KING  TAKEN  TO  THE  TOIVER  407 

"  Strange  that  the  admiral  should  place  such  faith  in  him," 
observed  Lord  Russell.  '*  Traitor  is  written  in  his  counte- 
nance.'* 

"  Is  it  your  Highness*  s  intention  to  disclose  this  plot  to  the 
king  ?  * '  inquired  Southampton. 

**No,  my  lord,"  replied  the  protector.  "My  deeply- 
designing  brother  hath  obtained  such  a  hold  upon  his  royal 
nephew's  affections,  that  there  is  no  telling  how  he  might  act. 
His  majesty  must  be  kept  in  profound  ignorance  both  of  the 
plot  and  counterplot  to  the  last.  Any  efforts  he  may  then 
make  to  save  his  guilty  uncle  will  be  vain.  To-morrow,  my 
lords,  we  must  all  secretly  assemble  at  the  Tower. ' ' 

On  this,  the  council  broke  up,  but  the  protector  and  War- 
wick remained  for  some  time  longer  in  deep  debate. 


CHAPTER  IX 


HOW  THE  KING  H^AS  TAKEN  TO  THE  TOIVER  BY  THE 
ADMIRAL,  AND  IVHAT  HAPPENED  THERE 

The  important  day  arrived  which  was  to  mar  or  make  the 
admiral's  fortunes. 

Though  he  had  no  misgivings  as  to  the  result  of  his  daring 
project,  and  entertained  no  suspicion  that  he  had  been 
betrayed,  he  was  weighed  down  by  that  extraordinary  de- 
pression which  is  not  unfrequently  the  forerunner  of  dire 
calamity.  His  slumbers  had  been  disturbed  by  ominous 
dreams,  and  quitting  his  uneasy  couch  at  an  early  hour, 
he  occupied  himself  in  writing  many  letters,  which  he  sub- 
sequently sent  off  by  trusty  emissaries. 

Amongst  those  to  whom  he  wrote  was  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth, and  his  letter  to  her  was  full  of  passionate  love.     With- 


4o8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  T01VER  [Book  111 

out  entering  into  particulars  of  his  project,  which  it  might  not 
have  been  safe  to  communicate,  he  told  her  that  she  might 
soon  expect  to  hear  important  news,  and  that  he  hoped,  ere 
long,  to  be  in  a  position  to  claim  fulfilment  of  her  promise. 

This  correspondence  finished  and  despatched,  he  sent  for 
the  principal  officers  of  his  household,  and  gave  them  such  in- 
structions as  he  deemed  expedient.  Other  necessary  business 
occupied  the  early  part  of  the  morning.  Before  the  hour 
had  arrived  when  he  had  appointed  to  attend  at  Whitehall, 
his  gloom  and  despondency  had  given  way  to  ardor  and 
impatience. 

Clad  in  a  suit  of  black  armor,  inlaid  with  gold,  having 
a  black  plirnie  in  his  helmet,  and  mounted  on  a  powerful 
steed,  richly  caparisoned,  he  repaired  to  Whitehall  at  the 
head  of  an  escort  of  some  fifty  or  sixty  well-armed  and 
well-mounted  men.  A  retinue  so  numerous  would  have  ex- 
cited astonishment  and  roused  suspicion  as  to  its  object  in  any- 
one but  the  admiral,  but  he  had  been  so  long  in  the  habit  of 
moving  about  with  an  almost  royal  guard,  that  little  surprise 
was  manifested  at  the  number  of  his  attendants. 

It  was  remarked,  however,  that  the  escort  was  more  com- 
pletely armed  than  usual,  most  of  the  men  being  provided 
with  corslets,  with  steel  skirts  and  morions,  and  all  of  them 
being  furnished  with  arquebuses  or  demi-lances.  Close  behind 
his  lord  rode  the  treacherous  Ugo  Harrington,  secretly  exult- 
ing that  his  hour  of  vengeance  was  well-nigh  come. 

The  day  was  raw  and  dull,  a  frost  of  some  weeks*  duration 
having  just  broken  up,  and  it  seemed  just  possible  that  the 
king  might  put  off  his  visit  to  the  Tower  on  account  of 
the  unpleasant  state  of  the  weather.  Any  apprehensions, 
however,  which  the  admiral  might  have  entertained  on  this 
score,  were  dispelled  by  the  appearance  of  Edward  himself, 
who,  wrapped  in  a  purple  velvet  mantle,  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  lined  and  bordered  with  ermine,  met  him  as  he 
entered  the  palace. 


Chap.  IX 1      THE  KING   TAKEN  TO   THE   TOWER  409 

Mounted  on  his  milk-white  palfrey,  and  defended  by  his 
well-lined  mantle  against  the  cold,  Edward  rode  by  his  uncle's 
side  to  the  Tower.  He  was  unattended  by  his  own  body- 
guard, the  admiral's  large  escort  appearing  sufficient  for  his 
protection.  Little  did  he  anticipate  the  strange  part  he 
would  be  called  upon  to  play ;  little  did  he  think  that  he  was 
being  led  almost  as  a  captive  to  the  Tower,  and  that  it  was  his 
aspiring  uncle's  intention  forcibly  to  detain  him  there  unless 
he  complied  with  his  wishes.  On  his  part,  the  admiral  was 
so  eager  to  secure  his  prize,  that  he  hurried  on  his  royal 
nephew  almost  faster  than  was  quite  consistent  with  etiquette. 
An  advanced  guard  cleared  the  way  for  them,  so  that  no 
delay  occurred.  But  though  the  admiral  rode  on  thus  rapidly, 
and  compelled  the  king  to  keep  pace  with  him,  he  did  not 
fail  to  notice  certain  personages  stationed  at  the  corners  of 
particular  streets  in  the  city,  with  whom  he  exchanged  signs. 

Half  an  hour  brought  them  to  Tower-hill,  and  as  the  grim 
old  fortress  rose  before  them,  Seymour's  breast  beat  high. 
Could  he  have  foreseen  what  awaited  him  there — could  he 
have  suspected  the  snare  laid  for  him — he  would  never  have 
entered  those  gates,  but,  turning  hastily  about,  and  calling  to 
his  men  to  follow  him,  would  have  clapped  spurs  into  his 
steed,  and  ridden  for  very  life.  The  grey  walls  of  the  fortress 
looked  stern  and  menacing,  but  they  had  no  terrors  for  him. 
Beside  him  were  the  tall  wooden  posts  of  the  scaffold,  but  he 
would  not  even  have  noted  them,  had  not  the  king  called  his 
attention  to  a  dark  figure  standing  beside  them,  remarking, 
with  a  shudder,  that  he  thought  it  was  the  headsman. 

'*It  is  Mauger,  sire,"  replied  the  admiral.  And  he  added 
to  himself,  '*  I  will  find  him  work  to  do  anon." 

Passing  through  the  two  outer  gates,  and  crossing  the 
bridge  across  the  moat,  the  young  monarch  and  his  uncle 
were  met  at  the  By-ward  Tower  by  Sir  John  Gage  and  the 
lieutenant  of  the  tower. 

After  reverently  saluting  the  king,  the  constable  looked 


41  o  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  lit 

earnestly  at  Seymour,  and  seemed  very  desirous  of  saying  a 
word  to  him  in  private,  but  the  admiral  gave  him  no  opportu- 
nity of  doing  so,  but  rode  after  the  king  into  the  lower  ward. 
Here,  however.  Sir  John  overtook  him,  and  coming  close  up 
to  him,  said,  in  a  low  tone  : 

''Be  advised  by  me,  and  go  back.  There  is  yet  time — I 
will  help  you  to  retreat.  *  * 

''I  have  no  intention  of  retreating.  Sir  John,"  replied 
Seymour.  *'You  can  guess  why  I  have  brought  his  majesty 
here." 

"You  have  brought  him  to  your  own  destruction,"  mut- 
tered the  constable.  *'  Fly  instantly,  if  you  would  save  your- 
self." 

''You  think  to  frighten  me,"  rejoined  Seymour;  "but  I 
am  not  to  be  turned  from  my  purpose." 

"  The  gates  are  closed — it  is  too  late,"  said  Gage.  And 
he  moved  on  towards  the  king. 

Edward  rode  on  towards  the  palace,  where  he  dismounted, 
and,  attended  by  the  admiral  and  the  constable,  entered  the 
building. 

The  palace  had  a  gloomy  air,  being  almost  unoccupied  at 
the  time,  but  a  large  fire  was  lighted  in  the  great  tapestried 
chamber,  to  which  they  proceeded,  and  gave  it  a  more  cheer- 
ful look.  Having  warmed  himself  for  a  moment  at  the  fire, 
Edward  turned  to  his  uncle,  who  was  standing  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  him,  and  observed,  **  You  have  something  to  say 
to  us,  gentle  uncle.  Was  it  necessary  we  should  come  to  the 
Tower  to  hear  it  ?  " 

"Your  Majesty  will  judge,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  " The 
real  motive  of  my  bringing  you  here  shall  now  be  disclosed, 
I  would  have  you  in  a  place  of  safety,  where  you  can  issue 
your  decrees  without  coercion.  At  Whitehall  you  are  under 
the  control  of  the  lord  protector  and  his  officers.  Here  you 
can  do  as  you  please.  Once  before,  I  made  an  effort  to  free 
you  from  your  uncle's  thraldom.     I  was  baffled  then,  but  I 


Chap,  IX']      THE  KING   TAKEN  TO   THE   TOIVER  411 

shall  not  be  baffled  now,  if  your  Majesty  will  but  stand  firm 
— ^and  never  had  you  more  need  of  firmness  than  at  the  pres- 
ent juncture." 

''I  will  summon  up  all  my  resolution  when  I  know  for 
what  emergency  it  is  required,"  said  Edward,  regarding 
him  fixedly. 

"  Listen  to  me,  sire,  and  rest  satisfied  that  the  statements  I 
am  about  to  make  to  you  can  be  fully  substantiated.  Since 
your  august  father's  death,  all  acts  and  appointments  have 
been  made  by  his  executors.  By  them  a  president  has  been 
appointed,  invested  with  almost  sovereign  powers,  under  the 
title  of  lord  protector ;  by  them  and  by  the  protector,  councils 
have  been  held,  and  affairs  of  state  administered.  But  all 
their  authority  was  derived  from  the  royal  testament. '  * 

"True.  The  king  my  father  ordained  that  the  sixteen 
persons  whom  he  named  as  executors  should  form  the  privy 
council,  and  execute  all  the  authority  of  the  crown  during  my 
minority." 

*' Your  royal  father  so  intended,  sire,  but " 

**  But  what  ? ' '  demanded  Edward.  **  Have  not  Jiis  inten- 
tions been  fully  carried  out  ?  '  * 

'*  Listen  to  me,  sire.  The  king  your  father  had  his  will 
carefully  prepared  and  written  out,  but  being  of  a  somewhat 
changeful  temper,  he  delayed  the  signing  of  it — ^till  too 
late." 

*'Too  late!  "  exclaimed  Edward,  in  amazement.  "Was 
not  the  will  signed  ?  * ' 

* '  It  was  stamped  while  his  majesty  was  incapable  of  speech 
or  movement — in  fact,  expiring.  The  will  is  consequently 
void,  and,  being  void,  all  acts  founded  upon  it  are  likewise 
void.  There  are  no  executors,  no  privy  council,  no  lord  pro- 
tector. Failing  the  will,  the  Crown  and  all  authority  at- 
tached to  it  devolves  upon  the  king's  undoubted  heir, 
your  Majesty.  You  are  uncontrolled  by  guardians  or  ex- 
ecutors. ' ' 


412  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  W 

"  But  is  my  uncle  the  lord  protector  aware  of  this  fatal  de- 
fect in  the  testament  ?  ' '  demanded  Edward. 

'* Aware  of  it !  "  cried  Seymour.  "  *Twas  by  his  con- 
trivance that  the  will  was  stamped.  All  his  hopes  of  power 
and  aggrandizement  were  based  upon  this  document,  and 
finding  himself  bereft  of  them  by  the  king's  neglect,  he  took 
this  desperate  means  of  remedying  the  error.  He  was  aided 
in  the  fraudulent  proceeding  by  Doctor  Butts,  whose  con- 
science, borne  down  by  the  weight  of  his  heinous  crime, 
could  only  be  relieved  before  his  death  by  a  written  con- 
fession, which  confession  is  in  my  custody,  and  shall  be  laid 
before  your  Majesty.'* 

''This  is  a  dreadful  accusation  to  bring  against  your 
brother,  my  lord,"  observed  Edward.  "But  you  say  you 
can  substantiate  it  ?  " 

*'  In  all  particulars.  Butts's  confession  is  most  ample. 
Sir  John  Gage  and  myself  entered  the  royal  chamber  the  mo- 
ment after  the  will  was  stamped,  and  we  can  both  testify  to 
the  king's  appearance.  He  must  have  been  long  insensible. 
Was  it  not  so.  Sir  John?"  he  added  to  the  constable,  who 
was  standing  at  a  respectful  distance.  , 

**  I  cannot  deny  it,"  replied  Gage. 

"This  is  sad  indeed  !  "  observed  Edward. 

"  'Tis  a  great  wrong,  and  must  be  set  right,"  pursued  the 
admiral.  **To  that  end  I  have  brought  your  Majesty  hither. 
The  lord  protector  must  be  hurled  from  his  place — the  coun- 
cil dismissed.  Leave  the  management  of  the  business  to  me. 
Popular  disturbances  may  occur,  but  by  the  energetic  measures 
which  I  propose  to  adopt,  they  will  be  speedily  quelled.  Your 
Majesty  must  consent  to  remain  within  the  Tower  till  all  is 
over.  At  most,  'twill  only  be  a  few  days'  restraint,  and  you 
will  then  enjoy  a  freedom  such  as  you  have  not  as  yet  ex- 
perienced. ' ' 

'*  Then  you  would  not  have  me  go  back  to  Whitehall  ?  " 

"Not  till  the  work  be  done,  sire,"  replied  the  admiral. 


Chap.  IX  ^      THE  KING   TAKEN  TO   THE   TOIVER  413 

'*Here,  in  the  event  of  tumult,  or  of  any  desperate  attempt 
on  the  part  of  the  protector  or  his  fautors  to  obtain  possession 
of  your  person,  you  will  be  in  perfect  safety.  I  have  prepared 
a  mandate  for  your  signature,  empowering  me  to  act  for  you. 
This  is  all  the  authority  I  need." 

And  he  produced  a  scroll  and  laid  it  before  the  king. 

At  this  moment.  Sir  John  Gage,  who  had  hitherto  remained 
standing  at  a  respectful  distance,  advanced  and  said,  '*It  is 
time  I  should  interfere.  Your  Majesty  must  not  sign  that 
mandate. ' ' 

* '  Must  not  sign  it.  Sir  John ! ' '  exclaimed  the  admiral. 
**  Do  you  dare  to  dictate  to  your  sovereign?" 

*'At  such  a  moment  I  dare  advise  him.  As  to  you,  my 
lord,  I  am  bound  to  tell  you  that  you  stand  on  the  brink 
of  a  precipice,  from  which  another  step  will  plunge  you 
headlong. ' ' 

'*  You  are  thinking  of  the  lord  protector,  not  of  me,  good 
Sir  John,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  in  a  contemptuous  tone. 

**  His  Highness  has  a  firmer  footing  than  you  suppose,  my 
lord,"  replied  the  constable.  '*But  you  have  spoken  of  a 
confession  by  Doctor  Butts.     Can  you  produce  it  ?  " 

*'  I  can,"  replied  the  admiral,  searching  the  velvet  bag  de- 
pending from  his  girdle.      *'  Ha  !  it  is  gone." 

*'That  is  unlucky,  my  lord,"  observed  the  constable. 
**  The  production  of  the  confession  might  have  set  all  doubts 
at  rest." 

'*  Have  you  any  doubts  of  the  truth  of  my  statement.  Sir 
John  ? ' '  cried  Seymour,  fiercely. 

"  Such  a  terrible  accusation  ought  not  to  be  made  without 
proof,"  observed  the  constable. 

**  That  is  true,"  said  the  king. 

*'The  document  has  been  abstracted  from  my  person," 
cried  Seymour. 

''Again  I  say,  its  loss  is  unlucky — most  unlucky — for  such 
a  document  might  have  helped  you  at  your  need.     My  lord, 


414  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  III 

let  me  urge  you  to  throw  yourself  upon  the  king's  protection, 
and  implore  his  grace.     Without  it,  you  are  utterly  lost. ' ' 

"What  mean  you.  Sir  John?**  cried  Seymour,  fiercely. 
**  Have  you  betrayed  me? ** 

'*You  have  been  betrayed — but  not  by  me,"  replied  the 
constable.  *'  The  lord  protector  and  the  council  are  here.  I 
warned  you  when  you  entered  the  Tower.  But  you  would 
not  listen  to  me.'* 

"Fly,  dear  uncle! — fly,  while  there  is  yet  time,"  cried 
Edward. 

"  Flight  is  impossible,  sire,"  said  the  constable.  "  If  the 
admiral  leaves  this  room  he  will  be  arrested.  Guards  are 
placed  within  the  ante-chamber  and  in  the  corridor,  and  all 
the  outlets  of  the  fortress  are  closed  by  the  lord  protector's 
command.'* 

There  was  a  brief  and  terrible  pause.  Notwithstanding 
the  extreme  peril  in  which  he  stood,  the  admiral's  courage 
did  not  desert  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  preparing  for  a  des- 
perate effort.     At  last  the  king  spoke. 

"Sir  John  Gage,"  he  said,  resolutely,  "my  uncle.  Lord 
Seymour,  shall  not  be  arrested.  D'ye  mark  what  I  say.  Sir 
John  ?  Lord  Seymour  must  not  be  arrested.  You  must  pre- 
vent it." 

"Alas,  sire!  you  ask  more  of  me  than  I  can  perform," 
rejoined  the  constable.  "The  lord  protector  is  omnipotent 
here." 

"  You  hear  that,  sire?*'  cried  Seymour.  "  *Tis  as  I  told 
you.  The  lord  protector  is  everything — your  Majesty  nothing. 
I  would  have  delivered  you  from  this  bondage,  but  I  must 
now  pay  with  my  life  for  my  devotion  to  you.** 

"You  shall  not  fall  into  his  power  if  I  can  prevent  it, 
uncle,"  rejoined  Edward.  "Sir  John  Gage,  on  your  alle- 
giance, I  command  you  to  obey  me.  Aid  the  admiral  to 
fly." 

"Beseech  you,  sire,  to  forgive  me,**  cried  the  constable. 


Chap.  1X2      THE  KING   TAKEN  TO   THE   TOIVER  415 

flinging  himself  at  the  king's  feet.  '*  I  cannot — dare  not 
obey  you." 

"  Dare  not !  Sir  John.  Little  did  I  expect  such  an  ad- 
mission from  you." 

*'  My  head  would  pay  the  penalty  of  such  violation  of  my 
duty.  That  I  will  freely  give.  But  I  cannot  assist  treason 
and  rebellion.  A  warrant  has  been  issued  by  the  council  for 
the  admiral's  arrest,  and  I  dare  not  oppose  it." 

"  Sir  John,"  continued  the  king,  authoritatively,  '*  I  com- 
mand you  to  set  him  free." 

"But,  sire—" 

*'  I  will  have  no  refusal.  If  the  Tower  gates  are  shut 
in  the  lord  protector's  name,  cause  them  to  be  opened  in 
mine.     Let  him  go  forth." 

**  It  will  be  useless,  sire.  My  orders  will  be  disobeyed. 
The  guard  will  refuse  to  open  the  gates.  * ' 

"Not  if  you  show  them  my  signet,'*  he  replied,  taking 
the  ring  from  his  finger,  and  giving  it  to  the  constable. 

"I  will  obey  your  Majesty,"  said  Sir  John  Gage,  rising; 
"but  only  on  the  condition  that  the  admiral  pledges  me  his 
word,  that,  if  I  set  him  free,  he  will  relinquish  his  designs 
against  his  brother. '  * 

"I  will  give  no  such  pledge,"  cried  Seymour,  fiercely. 
"  It  is  for  you  to  obey  the  king's  orders.  Sir  John,  and  not  to 
impose  conditions." 

"  Waste  no  more  time  in  these  objections,  Sir  John,"  said 
Edward,  "but  do  as  I  command  you.  You  are  in  no  danger. 
My  signet  will  protect  you." 

"I  heed  not  the  danger,"  said  the  constable.  "Since 
your  Majesty  will  have  it  so,  I  obey." 

"  Give  me  my  horse.  Sir  John.  -  Go  with  me  to  the  gates — 
that  is  all  I  need,'*  cried  Seymour. 

"  I  know  not  if  I  can  find  your  steed,"  replied  the  consta- 
ble. "  Most  probably  your  escort  has  been  dispersed.  Orders, 
I  know,  were  given  to  that  effect. '  * 


4i6  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  111 

**But  my  palfrey  must  be  there,"  cried  Edward.  '*  Take 
that,  or  any  horse  you  can  obtain.  Go — ^go  ! — we  shall  have 
them  here." 

**  We  cannot  pass  through  the  ante-chamber;  'tis  guarded, 
as  I  have  said,"  remarked  the  constable,  stepping  towards 
the  side  of  the  room,  where,  raising  a  piece  of  tapestry,  he 
disclosed  a  secret  door. 

*' Farewell,  my  gracious  liege!"  cried  Seymour,  with  a 
profound  obeisance  to  his  royal  nephew.  "You  shall  hear 
from  me  ere  long." 

With  this,  he  passed  through  the  secret  door  with  the  con- 
stable, and  the  hanging  fell  to  its  place. 

Scarcely  had  the  king  time  to  seat  himself,  when  the  great 
door  was  thrown  open,  and  the  lord  protector,  followed  by 
Warwick  and  the  rest  of  the  council,  entered  the  room.  Be- 
hind the  latter  came  a  guard  of  halberdiers,  at  the  head  of 
which  was  Ugo  Harrington.  Astonishment  and  dismay  were 
painted  on  the  countenances  of  the  whole  party  when  it  was 
discovered  that  the  king  was  alone.  Somerset  could  not  con- 
ceal his  rage  and  disappointment. 

'  *  Where  is  the  traitor  ?  "  he  cried,  furiously. 

'*If  your  Highness  refers  to  the  lord  admiral,"  replied 
the  king,  calmly,  "he  is  gone,  under  my  safeguard.  I 
have  charged  Sir  John  Gage  to  see  him  safely  out  of  the 
Tower." 

"  Sir  John  will  answer  to  the  council  and  to  myself  for  this 
gross  disobedience  to  our  orders,"  rejoined  the  protector. 
"  He  knew  that  a  warrant  had  been  issued  for  the  admiral's 
arrest." 

"  He  obeyed  my  orders,"  said  Edward,  with  dignity. 
"Your  Majesty  is  not  aware  of  the  heinous  offences  of 
which  the  admiral  has  been  guilty,  or  you  would  never  have 
aided  his  escape,"  said  the  protector. 

"Are  those  who  make  these  accusations  against  him  them- 
selves free  from  guilt  ? ' '   rejoined  Edward,  sternly. 


Chap.  IX}      THE  KING   TAKEN  TO   THE   TOWER  417 

"What  would  your  Majesty  insinuate?"  cried  the  pro- 
tector. 

'*We  shall  find  more  fitting  opportunity  of  speaking  our 
mind, ' '  said  Edward.  * '  Meantime,  your  Highness  will  do 
well  to  examine  your  own  breast,  and  see  that  nothing  be  hid- 
den within  it  which  you  would  blush  to  have  drawn  forth. ' ' 

Somerset  looked  embarrassed,  and  knew  not  what  reply  to 
make.  At  this  juncture,  the  Earl  of  Warwick  advanced  to- 
wards him,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone,  **  While  we  talk,  the  ad- 
miral escapes.  If  he  gets  out  of  the  Tower,  an  insurrection 
will  assuredly  take  place,  and  then  I  will  answer  for  none  of 
our  heads. ' ' 

''What  is  to  be  done?"  replied  Somerset,  in  the  same 
tone.      "  The  king  has  set  him  free." 

"  Heed  not  that,"  said  Warwick.  "We  shall  share  with 
you  the  responsibility  of  his  arrest.  If  he  escapes,  we  are  all 
undone." 

While  they  were  thus  conferring,  Ugo  Harrington  came  up 
to  them. 

"Pardon  me  for  interrupting  your  Highness,"  he  said, 
"but  each  moment  is  precious.  If  you  desire  it,  at  any 
hazard  I  will  arrest  him. ' ' 

"  Do  it  at  once,  then,  good  fellow,"  cried  Warwick.  "  His 
highness  will  thank  thee,  and  reward  thee.  Here  is  the  war- 
rant— go  ! ' ' 

"Ay,  go,  and  take  a  guard  with  thee,"  said  the  pro- 
tector. 

Upon  this,  Ugo,  ordering  half  a  dozen  halberdiers  to  follow 
him,  quitted  the  room. 


27 


4i8  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOiVER  {Book  III 


CHAPTER   X 


HOW  THE  ADMIRAL  IVAS  ARRESTED 

Meanwhile  Sir  John  Gage  and  the  admiral  were  making 
their  way  as  expeditiously  as  they  could  towards  the  court. 
In  order  to  reach  it  without  interruption,  they  were  obliged 
to  take  a  circuitous  route,  to  traverse  several  long  passages, 
and  finally  to  descend  a  back  staircase  in  the  east  wing  of  the 
palace. 

This  brought  them  to  the  eastern  end  of  the  court,  which 
was  entirely  deserted,  and  they  then  perceived  that  the  escort 
had  been  dispersed ;  but  the  admiral's  steed,  with  the  king's 
palfrey,  and  some  half-dozen  other  horses,  were  still  left  in 
charge  of  the  grooms  near  the  principal  entrance  of  the  palace. 

Uttering  an  exclamation  of  joy,  Seymour  hurried  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  horses,  closely  followed  by  the  constable. 
But  ere  they  got  up,  several  halberdiers  descended  from  the 
steps,  and  placed  themselves  in  the  way. 

'*  You  cannot  pass,  my  lord,"  said  the  chief  of  this  party, 
recognizing  the  admiral.  "We  have  the  lord  protector's 
order  to  detain  you." 

**Out  of  my  way,  fellow!  thou  hadst  best!"  cried  Sey- 
mour. **My  authority  is  superior  to  thine.  Show  him  the 
king's  signet,  Sir  John." 

**  His  majesty's  orders  are  that  the  lord  admiral  be  permit- 
ted to  depart  upon  the  instant,"  said  the  constable.  **  Be- 
hold the  royal  signet !"  he  added,  displaying  the  ring. 

''Enough,  Sir  John,"  rejoined  the  halberdier.  "You 
will  hold  us  harmless  if  we  do  wrong." 

On  this  the  men  drew  aside,  and  the  admiral  and  his  com- 
panion passed  on. 


Chap.  X'\  THE  ADMIRALS  ARREST  419 

"My  horse/*  cried  Seymour  to  the  groom,  who  looked 
alarmed  and  irresolute. 

**  Give  it  him,  fellow,*'  cried  the  constable.  **  'Tis  by  the 
king's  commands.** 

In  another  instant  Seymour  had  reached  his  steed,  who 
neighed  exultingly  as  his  master  sprang  upon  his  back.  At 
the  same  instant.  Sir  John  Gage  vaulted  into  the  saddle  of 
another  horse,  and  they  both  dashed  out  of  the  court,  and 
down  the  descent  leading  to  the  Bloody  Tower. 

**  Confusion !  the  gate  is  closed,"  cried  Seymour,  as  they 
approached.  **What  ho!  warder,"  he  shouted.  **Let  us 
through,  in  the  king's  name.'* 

The  warder  who  had  come  forth,  hearing  the  injunction 
repeated  by  the  constable,  prepared  to  comply,  when  suddenly 
a  cannon  was  fired  from  the  summit  of  the  Coal-harbour 
Tower — a  structure  which,  it  may  be  remembered,  closely 
adjoined  the  palace — while  almost  simultaneously  loud  shouts 
were  heard  proceeding  from  the  same  direction. 

"What  shall  I  do.  Sir  John?"  demanded  the  warder, 
hesitating. 

"  Open  the  gate  instantly,"  roared  the  admiral. 

At  this  moment  two  or  three  horsemen,  accompanied  by 
several  yeomen  of  the  guard,  were  seen  at  the  summit  of  the 
acclivity.  All  these  persons  were  hurrying  towards  the  gate, 
and  vociferating  to  the  warder  not  to  open  it. 

One  of  the  horsemen  rode  on  more  quickly  than  the  others, 
and  as  he  advanced,  Seymour  perceived  to  his  astonishment 
that  it  was  Ugo  Harrington.  There  was  something  in  the  es- 
quire's looks  and  gestures  that  showed  his  purpose  to  be  hostile, 
but  all  doubts  on  the  subject  were  ended  as  he  came  up. 

Flight  was  now  impossible  to  Seymour,  for  the  warder, 
declining  to  open  the  gate,  had  retreated  to  the  tower,  from  a 
grated  window  in  which  he  reconnoitred  the  different  parties. 
Turning  to  face  his  opponents,  who  were  now  coming  on 
in  considerable  numbers,  the  admiral  regarded  them  sternly. 


420  THE   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  III 

**  How  comes  it  that  I  see  thee  with  this  rout,  Ugo  ?  "  he 
cried,  ''and  hear  thy  voice  raised  against  me?  Art  thou 
a  traitor?" 

**  No,  an  enemy  to  traitors,**  rejoined  the  esquire.  **  I  am 
sent  to  arrest  you,  my  lord,  and  I  call  upon  Sir  John  Gage 
and  all  others  who  are  nigh  to  aid  me. '  * 

"  Thou  sent  to  arrest  me  !"  cried  Seymour,  with  a  scornful 
laugh.  *'  Could  none  other  but  my  own  servant  be  found  to 
do  the  office?'* 

*'I  sought  it,  and  it  was  granted  me,  in  consideration  of 
services  I  have  rendered  to  the  lord  protector, ' '  rejoined  Ugo. 
**  This  is  my  vengeance  for  the  wrong  you  did  me  three  years 
ago.  I  have  revealed  all  your  treasonable  practices  to  the 
council,  and  in  return  they  have  charged  me  to  arrest  you. ' ' 

**  Have  you  the  warrant? **  demanded  the  constable. 

*'  'Tis  here,"  replied  Ugo,  producing  it.  "My  lord  ad- 
miral, I  arrest  you  of  high  treason  in  the  name  of  the  lord 
protector  and  the  council.  Resistance  will  avail  you  nothing. 
Yield  yourself,  therefore,  a  prisoner,  and  deliver  up  your 
sword." 

"Take  it  to  thy  heart,  vile  traitor!"  cried  Seymour, 
plunging  his  rapier  with  such  force  into  the  esquire's  body 
that  the  hilt  smote  against  his  breast.  Uttering  a  fearful  cry, 
Ugo  fell  backwards,  and,  unable  to  keep  his  seat  in  the  saddle, 
rolled  heavily  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay,  breathing  curses 
against  his  slayer. 

For  a  moment,  the  yeomen  of  the  guard,  who  had  wit- 
nessed this  terrible  act  of  retribution,  looked  on  in  horror  and 
consternation,  but  the  next  instant  they  closed  round  the 
admiral,  and  seizing  his  bridle,  and  presenting  their  halberds 
at  his  breast,  prevented  him  from  making  any  further  move- 
ment.    Sir  John  Gage  also  interposed. 

"Give  me  the  warrant,*'  he  shouted. 

"Take  it,'*  said  the  dying  man  to  the  halberdier  who 
approached  him.      "  It  will  avenge  me." 


Chap.  A']  THE  ADMIRAL'S  ARREST  421 

**  My  lord  admiral,"  said  Gage,  as  he  received  the  parch- 
ment, which  was  sprinkled  with  blood,  *'  I  must  now  discharge 
the  office  of  the  man  you  have  just  wounded  unto  death. 
You  are  my  prisoner.     Dismount,  I  pray  you. ' ' 

Seeing  resistance  fruitless,  the  admiral  complied.  As  he 
alighted,  he  found  himself  close  beside  his  bleeding  victim, 
whose  dying  gaze  was  fixed  upon  him. 

**  Take  charge  of  the  prisoner,"  said  Sir  John  Gage,  *'  and 
conduct  him  to  the  palace,  that  the  lord  protector's  pleasure 
concerning  him  may  be  ascertained." 

While  the  guard  were  placing  themselves  on  either  side  of 
the  admiral,  Ugo  raised  himself  by  a  last  effort,  and  cried, 
*' You  cannot  escape  now.  I  vowed  that  your  head  should 
fall  upon  the  block — and  so  it  will.     I  die  content." 

And  with  a  laugh  of  exultation,  he  fell  backwards  and 
expired. 

'* Vindictive  wretch!  thou  hast  well  deserved  thy  fate!" 
ejaculated  the  constable.  "Remove  the  body  to  Mauger's 
vault  yonder — beneath  the  Bloody  Tower,"  he  continued. 
*'  'Tis  a  fitting  place  for  it.  And  let  these  sanguinary  stains 
be  effaced.  Ere  long,  in  all  likelihood,  his  majesty  will  pass 
this  way.     Now,  bring  on  the  prisoner.     To  the  palace  ! ' ' 

With  this,  he  rode  slowly  up  the  ascent,  followed  by  the 
admiral,  whose  courage  seemed  wholly  unshaken  by  the  sud- 
den reverse  he  had  experienced,  and  who  marched  with  a  firm 
step  and  haughty  front  in  the  midst  of  the  guard. 

Dismounting  at  the  grand  portal,  the  constable  caused  his 
prisoner  to  be  taken  in,  and  then  entering  himself,  proceeded 
with  the  admiral  and  the  guard  to  that  part  of  the  palace 
where  he  had  left  the  king,  and  where  he  was  informed  that 
his  majesty  still  remained. 

As  may  be  imagined,  the  arrest  of  so  important  a  personage 
as  the  admiral  caused  a  vast  deal  of  excitement  amongst  all 
those  who  saw  him  brought  in.  Strange  looks  and  whispers 
were  interchanged.     Se)anour,  however,  was  known  to  stand 


422  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

so  high  in  his  royal  nephew's  favor,  that  all  anticipated  his 
speedy  release. 

On  arriving  at  the  ante-chamber,  the  constable  ordered  the 
guard  to  remain  there  with  the  prisoner,  while  he  went  in  to 
the  king. 

**  Leave  me  not  here,  I  pray  you,  good  Sir  John,"  said  the 
admiral,  *'but  take  me  at  once  before  his  majesty." 

*'I  must  first  ascertain  the  lord  protector's  pleasure,"  re- 
joined the  constable.     And  he  entered  the  inner  room. 

After  a  short  absence  he  returned,  and  approaching  the  ad- 
miral, said,  * 'Admittance  is  denied  you,  my  lord.  His 
majesty,  who  is  greatly  moved  in  your  behalf,  would  fain 
have  you  brought  in,  but  the  lord  protector  is  inflexible  upon 
the  point,  and  the  whole  of  the  council  support  him./ ' 

*^Alas  !  poor  king  !  he  will  never  have  a  will  of  his  own," 
exclaimed  Seymour.  ''But  I  must  see  him,  good  Sir  John. 
I  must  have  a  word  with  him." 

"It  cannot  be,  my  lord,"  rejoined  the  constable.  "My 
orders  are  peremptory.  I  must  take  you  hence  forthwith,  and 
place  you  in  confinement." 

"  But  the  king  must  needs  pass  through  this  chamber.  Let 
me  stay  here  till  he  comes  forth.  Fortune  frowns  upon  me  at 
this  moment,  but  she  will  smile  again  ere  long,  and  then 
I  shall  not  forget  the  service." 

"I  cannot  do  it — I  dare  not  do  it,  my  lord.  I  have 
already  incurred  the  protector's  displeasure  by  what  I  have 
done.     Guards,  bring  on  the  prisoner. ' ' 

"  I  will  not  stir,"  cried  the  admiral,  fiercely.  "  I  will  see 
the  king." 

"  My  lord,  you  cannot.     Ha !  his  majesty  comes  forth." 

And,  as  he  spoke,  the  doors  of  the  inner  chamber  were 
thrown  open  by  the  henchmen,  and  immediately  afterwards 
Edward  came  out,  closely  attended  by  the  lord  protector,  and 
followed  by  the  council. 

The  young  monarch  was  evidently  much  distressed.     His 


Chap.  A-]  THE  ADMIRAL'S  ARREST  423 

eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  ground,  and  he  did  not  notice  the 
admiral  and  the  guard. 

Not  so  Somerset.  Instantly  perceiving  his  brother,  he  cast 
an  ireful  look  at  Sir  John  Gage. 

*' Stand  aside,  my  lord,"  said  the  constable  to  Seymour. 
*'  You  have  done  me  a  great  injury.  You  must  not  speak  to 
the  king." 

And  he  signed  to  the  halberdiers  to  keep  him  back.  But 
the  admiral  would  not  be  restrained.  Ere  the  king  had  ad- 
vanced many  paces,  he  broke  from  the  guard,  and  prostrated 
himself  before  his  royal  nephew. 

*' Protect  me,  sire! — protect  me  from  my  enemies!"  he 
cried. 

Edward  regarded  him  with  deep  commiseration,  and  would 
have  raised  him,  if  Somerset  had  not  stepped  quickly  forward, 
and  rudely  pushed  his  brother  aside. 

** Forbear!"  he  cried,  **thou  monstrous  traitor.  Dare 
not  to  approach  the  king  thou  hast  so  deeply  injured. 
Thy  heinous  treasons  and  misdemeanors  have  justly  steeled 
his  heart  against  thee.  Turn  a  deaf  ear  to  his  prayers, 
sire,  and  pass  on.  He  deserves  not  a  moment's  consider- 
ation. ' ' 

''And  what  art  thou,  who  dar'st  to  call  me  traitor?" 
cried  Seymour,  springing  to  his  feet.  '*  Treason  in  thy  case 
has  assumed  gigantic  proportions  such  as  it  never  heretofore 
attained.  Falsest  of  traitors  hast  thou  been  to  thy  late  sov- 
ereign lord  and  master,  who  loved  and  trusted  thee,  and 
loaded  thee  with  honors.  False  and  traitorous  wert  thou  to 
King  Henry  in  regard  to  his  will,  which  by  thy  machinations 
was  fraudulently  stamped  while  he  lay  helpless,  speechless, 
dying.  False  and  traitorous  hast  thou  been  to  thy  royal 
nephew,  whose  youth  and  inexperience  thou  hast  abused,  and 
whom  thou  hast  sought  to  deprive  of  his  power  and  authority. 
Thou  chargest  me  with  treasons  and  misdemeanors  !  Thine 
own  are  of  such  magnitude  that  others  are  dwarfed  beside 


424  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOWER  [Book  III 

them.  Thou  hast  usurped  thy  present  post,  and  wilt  usurp 
the  crown  itself,  if  thou  be'st  not  prevented." 

* '  I  disdain  to  answer  these  idle  charges, '  *  said  Somerset ; 
**but  there  is  one  so  grave,  that,  since  it  is  made  pub- 
licly, must  and  shall  be  instantly  refuted.  You  tax  me 
with  causing  the  late  king's  will  to  be  fraudulently  stamped. 
Those  who  witnessed  it — ^and  they  are  several  in  number — 
can  prove  that  the  accusation  is  false.  But  on  what  pre- 
tence do  you  dare  to  make  so  scandalous,  so  atrocious  a 
charge  ? ' ' 

'*  On  the  confession  of  your  accomplice.  Doctor  Butts." 

''Where  is  the  confession  ?  "  demanded  Somerset.  **  Pro- 
duce it." 

'*Ay,  produce  it — if  you  can?"  said  Warwick,  in  a  de- 
risive tone. 

*'  The  document  has  been  purloined  from  me — no  doubt  by 
my  villanous  servant,  Ugo  Harrington,  whom  I  have  punished 
for  his  perfidy,"  rejoined  Seymour.  **  But  what  I  avouch  is 
true. ' ' 

*'Tut!  tut!"  exclaimed  Warwick.  *' 'Tis  evident  your 
charge  cannot  be  supported,  and  must  be  regarded  as  false  and 
malicious.  In  your  own  case,  on  the  contrary,  we  have 
abundant  proofs  of  treasonable  practices.  Learn  to  your 
confusion  that  your  accomplice.  Sir  William  Sharington,  is  a 
prisoner  here  in  the  Tower,  and  has  confessed  his  guilt,  and 
your  participation  in  his  offences." 

This  was  a  heavy  and  unexpected  blow  to  the  admiral,  and 
it  was  plain  he  felt  it;  but  he  quickly  recovered,  and  said, 
with  great  audacity,  **Any  charge  that  Sharington  may  bring 
against  me  can  be  refuted.  Let  me  be  confronted  with 
him." 

**  That  you  shall  be  anon,  and  with  your  other  confederates 
in  treason,"  said  the  protector.  "But  you  must  be  content 
to  await  your  examination  by  the  council." 

**  Your  Majesty  will  not  allow  me  to  be  sacrificed  by  my 


Chap.  X']  THE  ADMIRAL* S  ARREST  425 

enemies  ? ' '  cried  Seymour,  appealing  to  the  king,  who, 
though  he  looked  compassionately  at  him,  had  not  hitherto 
spoken. 

*' Justice  must  take  its  course,'*  interposed  the  protector. 
**  His  majesty  cannot  interfere.'* 

**Alas  !  I  cannot,"  exclaimed  Edward  in  a  voice  of  deep 
emotion. 

*'  Do  you  abandon  me  in  this  dire  extremity,  sire  ?  "  cried 
the  admiral.      ''A  word  from  you,  and  I  am  free." 

*'  You  are  mistaken,  my  lord,"  said  Warwick.  '*  It  is  not 
even  in  his  majesty's  power  to  free  you  now.  You  must  be 
brought  to  trial  for  the  heinous  offences  with  which  you  are 
charged.  To  pardon  you  would  be  to  encourage  treason  and 
rebellion. ' ' 

* '  I  am  neither  traitor  nor  rebel, '  *  cried  Seymour.  *  *  Would 
you  all  were  as  loyal  and  devoted  to  the  king  as  I  am.  Sire, 
will  you  see  me  crushed  without  a  word  to  save  me  ?  " 

*' Peace!  your  appeals  are  vain,"  rejoined  Somerset. 
**Come,  sire!" 

*'  Farewell !  my  lord,"  said  Edward.  *^  Heaven  grant  you 
may  be  able  to  clear  yourself ! ' ' 

Casting  a  compassionate  look  at  the  admiral,  he  then  moved 
on,  attended  by  the  protector,  and  followed  by  the  council. 
Before  quitting  the  room,  he  gave  another  farewell  look  at  his 
uncle,  who  continued  gazing  imploringly  and  half  reproach- 
fully at  him. 

In  another  moment  he  was  gone — for  ever,  as  far  as 
Seymour  was  concerned.     He  never  beheld  him  more. 

For  a  moment,  the  admiral  remained  stupefied.  But  quickly 
recovering  himself,  he  assumed  all  his  customary  haughtiness 
of  deportment  and  fearlessness  of  look. 

*'The  chances  are  against  me  for  the  moment,  Sir  John," 
he  observed  to  the  constable.  ''But  all  is  not  lost.  The 
worst  that  can  befall  me  is  long  imprisonment,  like  Norfolk's, 
or  exile.     My  brother  will  not  venture  to  bring  me  to  the 


426  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  III 

scaffold.  The  curse  of  Cain  would  be  on  him,  were  he  to 
shed  my  blood  !  ' ' 

'*  Had  you  succeeded  in  your  attempt  and  overthrown  him, 
would  you  have  spared  your  brother,  my  lord  ? ' '  demanded 
the  constable. 

Seymour  made  no  reply. 

**  You  would  not,"  pursued 'Gage.  **  Then  judge  him  not 
too  severely.  You  have  tried  him  sorely.  But  it  is  now  my 
painful  duty  to  see  you  taken  to  your  prison -lodging.  May  it 
be  mine,  also,  to  assist  at  your  liberation.  Guards,  to  the 
Bowyer  Tower  ! ' '  The  admiral  was  then  surrounded  by  the 
halberdiers,  in  the  midst  of  whom  he  marched  across  the 
green  towards  a  tower  at  the  north  side  of  the  inner  ward. 

By  this  time,  the  king,  with  the  lord  protector,  the  lords 
of  the  council,  and  their  attendants  having  departed,  there 
were  but  few  witnesses  of  the  scene ;  and  none  whom  Sey- 
mour heeded.  Spectacles  of  this  kind  had  been  too  frequent 
during  the  late  reign  to  excite  much  wonder.  But  all  who 
beheld  the  admiral  marvelled  at  his  proud  deportment  and 
confident  looks. 

On  arriving  at  the  Bowyer  Tower,  he  was  consigned  to  the 
charge  of  Tombs,  the  gaoler,  who,  unlocking  a  strong  oaken 
door,  strengthened  with  plates  of  iron,  and  studded  with  flat- 
headed  nails,  ushered  him  into  the  very  cell  in  which  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  had  been  confined.  The  recollection  of  his 
interview  with  the  unfortunate  nobleman  on  the  night  before 
his  execution  rushed  upon  Seymour's  mind,  and  filled  him 
with  dread. 

"I  like  not  this  cell.  Sir  John,"  he  observed  to  the  con- 
stable, who  had  accompanied  him.  "  Can  I  not  have  another 
lodging  ? ' ' 

**Is  there  any  other  cell  vacant.  Tombs?"  demanded  the 
constable. 

''None  that  would  suit  his  lordship,"  replied  the  gaoler. 
' '  His  Grace  of  Norfolk  is  in  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  the  Earl 


Chap.X^  THE  ADMIRAL'S  ARREST  427 

of  Devonshire  is  in  the  Devilin  Tower,  Bishop  Gardiner  in 
the  Flint  Tower,  and  Bishop  Heath  in  the  Brick  Tower.  Sir 
William  Sharington  is  in  the  Constable's  Tower.  There  is  a  cell 
unoccupied  in  the  Martin  Tower,  but  it  is  not  so  comfortable 
as  this.  The  Bowyer  Tower  hath  always  been  reserved  for 
the  highest  nobles.  The  last  person  who  lodged  here,  as 
your  Lordship  may  remember,"  he  added  to  Seymour,  **  was 
the  Earl  of  Surrey." 

**For  that  reason  I  like  it  not,"  rejoined  the  admiral. 
**  But  no  matter.  What  signifies  it  who  occupied  the  dun- 
geon ? ' ' 

*  *  True ;  as  your  Lordship  observes,  it  matters  little, ' '  said 
Tombs.      * '  You  will  find  the  chamber  very  comfortable. '  * 

**I  would  I  could  do  better  for  you,  my  lord,"  observed 
the  constable;  "but  you  will  be  as  well  here  as  anywhere 
else — perhaps  better.  See  that  his  lordship  is  well  cared  for, 
and  that  all  his  reasonable  requests  are  attended  to, ' '  he  added 
to  the  gaoler. 

Tombs  promised  strict  compliance,  and  by  Gage's  direc- 
tions proceeded  to  divest  the  admiral  of  his  armor,  carrying 
the  different  pieces  composing  it  out  of  the  cell. 

Promising  to  send  the  prisoner  changes  of  apparel  and 
other  matters  which  he  required,  the  constable  took  his 
departure  ]  the  door  of  the  dungeon  was  locked  outside  by 
Tombs ;  and  Seymour  was  left  to  his  meditations. 


Thus  far  the  Third  Book 


BOOK  ly 

THE  BOIVYER   TOIVER 


CHAPTER  I 

HOW  SIR  WILLIAM  SHARINGTON  IVAS  CONFRONTED  WITH 
THE  ADMIRAL 

A  prisoner  in  the  Tower  ! 

Sudden  and  sad  was  the  change  that  had  come  over  the 
haughty  Seymour — that  morn  one  of  the  most  powerful 
nobles  in  the  land,  with  hundreds  ready  to  obey  him — ^at  eve 
a  prisoner  in  the  Tower. 

A  prisoner ! — he  a  prisoner !  'Twas  hard  to  realize  the 
dread  idea.  Yet,  as  he  gazed  around  his  narrow  cell,  the 
terrible  conviction  forced  itself  upon  him,  and  a  sickness  like 
that  of  death  came  over  him.  Remorse  suddenly  roused 
within  his  breast,  added  to  the  mental  anguish  he  endured. 
With  a  conscience  burdened  with  many  crimes,  the  enormity 
of  which  he  could  not  hide  from  himself,  he  yet  felt  no  con- 
trition. Perceiving  not  that  the  chastisement  he  endured 
was  justly  inflicted  for  his  sinfulness,  he  murmured  against  the 
wrath  he  had  provoked. 

No  more  fearful  state  of  mind  can  be  conceived  than  that 
which  the  unhappy  man  now  experienced.  The  furies  seemed 
to  lash  him  with  all  their  whips,  and  to  goad  him  to  madness. 
So  acute  indeed  were  his  suff'erings,  that  finding  reflection 
intolerable,  he  threw  himself  on  a  pallet  which  was  laid 
in  a  deep  recess,  and  sought  forgetfulness  in  sleep.  But  his 
slumbers  were  not  undisturbed,  his  dreams  being  scarcely  less 
terrible  than  his  waking  thoughts. 

Another  day  passed  much  in  the  same  manner  as  the  first. 
Its  dreary  monotony  was  unrelieved  by  any  event,  save  the 
appearance,  at  stated  intervals,  of  the  gaoler,  who  brought 
him  the  changes  of  apparel  and  other  matters  promised  by 
Sir  John  Gage. 

431 


432  THE   COmTABLE  OF  THE  TOJVER         [Bookie 

No  information  as  to  the  intentions  of  the  council  could  be 
obtained  by  the  prisoner  from  Tombs.  Seymour  had  hoped 
that  he  might  be  speedily  examined,  but  in  this  expectation 
he  was  disappointed.  His  enemies  could  scarcely  have  de- 
vised greater  torture  than  by  leaving  him  a  prey  to  his  own 
bitter  reflections. 

The  keenest  pang,  however,  that  he  endured — ^keener  than 
the  loss  of  power  and  position — was  the  thought  that  he  was 
debarred  from  seeing  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  or  hearing  from 
her.  If  he  could  but  behold  her  once  more,  he  should  be 
content ;  if  he  could  but  hear  from  her,  it  would  soothe  his 
anguish.  She  must  needs  be  aware  of  his  fall,  and  perchance 
might  find  some  means  of  communicating  with  him.  But  no 
letter  or  message  came. 

Sir  John  Gage  did  not  even  make  his  appearance.  Had 
the  council  interdicted  him  from  visiting  the  prisoner  ?  When 
questioned  on  the  subject  the  gaoler  answered  that  he  thought 
so.  Not  till  he  became  a  captive  himself  had  Seymour  any 
notion  of  the  horrors  of  captivity.  Solitary  confinement  was 
inexpressibly  irksome  to  him — well-nigh  intolerable. 

Leaving  the  unhappy  man  to  himself  for  a  while,  we  will 
now  see  what  proceedings  had  been  taken  by  his  enemies. 

On  the  day  following  the  admiral's  imprisonment  in  the 
Tower,  the  seal  of  his  office  was  sent  for  and  placed  in 
the  hands  of  one  of  the  secretaries  of  state.  All  his  private 
papers  and  correspondence  were  secured,  and  several  officers 
of  his  court,  known  to  be  in  his  confidence,  and  supposed  to 
be  able  to  make  disclosures  against  him,  were  arrested.  His 
two  residences,  Seymour  House  and  Chelsea  Manor-House, 
were  seized  by  the  officers  of  the  Crown,  the  former  with  all 
its  rich  furniture  and  objects  of  art  being  appropriated  by  the 
lord  protector,  and  the  latter,  soon  afterwards,  being  bestowed 
upon  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  as  the  price  of  his  assistance 
to  Somerset. 

Messengers  of  state,   accompanied  by  sufficient  force  to 


Chap.  /]        SH/iRINGTON  CONFRONTS  SEYMOUR  433 

enable  them  to  execute  their  purpose,  were  sent  to  take 
possession  of  Seymour's  princely  mansion,  Sudley  Castle,  and 
of  his  fortress.  Holt  Castle.  These  places  were  occupied 
without  resistance,  for  on  hearing  that  the  admiral  was  ar- 
rested, all  his  partisans  lost  heart.  Both  castles  were  escheated 
to  the  Crown,  the  former  being  given  to  the  Marquis  of 
Northampton — ^brother,  it  will  be  remembered,  to  the  unhappy 
Queen  Catherine  Parr, — and  the  latter  converted  into  a  gar- 
rison for  the  king's  troops. 

Six  of  the  swiftest -sailing  ships  of  war  were  despatched  to 
the  Scilly  Islands  to  take  possession  of  all  the  stores  laid  up 
there  by  the  grand  conspirator,  and  to  capture  and  destroy 
the  piratical  vessels  in  his  pay.  Vigorous  measures  were  also 
taken  to  repress  risings  in  the  different  counties  known  to  be 
favorable  to  the  admiral,  and  several  ringleaders  were  arrested 
and  subsequently  hanged. 

By  these  prompt  and  decisive  steps,  which  were  taken  on 
the  advice  and  under  the  direction  of  Warwick,  the  insurrec- 
tion was  effectually  crushed.  Terror-stricken  by  the  fall  of 
their  leader,  the  bands  upon  whom  he  had  counted  quickly 
dispersed.  A  slight  demonstration  in  his  behalf  was  made  in 
the  city  of  London,  where  the  apprentices,  incited  by  his  par- 
tisans, cried  out  against  his  arrest,  but  the  rioters  were  speed- 
ily put  down  by  the  train-bands. 

Thus  was  one  of  the  most  daring  and  extraordinary  conspir- 
acies ever  planned  brought  to  an  end  before  it  had  time  to 
explode.  Thus  with  Lord  Seymour  fell  the  entire  edifice  he 
had  been  at  so  much  pains  to  construct. 

All  these  proceedings,  however,  were  kept  carefully  con- 
cealed from  the  contriver  of  the  plot,  and  whatever  he  might 
suspect,  he  knew  not  how  completely  his  work  had  been  un- 
done. 

On  the  sixth  day  of  his  imprisonment,  it  was  intimated  to 
the  admiral  by  Tombs  that  he  would  be  examined  by  the 
council,  and  the  intelligence  was  satisfactory  to  him.  By  this 
28 


434  7'//£  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOPVER         [Book  ly 

time  he  had  fully  recovered  from  the  shock  occasioned  by  his 
fall;  all  his  courage  had  returned,  and  hope  was  again 
kindled  in  his  breast.  Having  prepared  for  his  defence,  he 
persuaded  himself  he  should  be  able  to  baffle  his  enemies. 

Arrayed  in  habiliments  of  black  velvet>  he  impatiently 
awaited  the  summons  of  the  council.  It  was  brought  by  the 
constable  of  the  Tower  in  person,  who  came  with  a  guard  to 
conduct  him  to  the  lieutenant's  lodgings,  where  the  council 
were  assembled.  Sir  John  looked  grave  and  stern,  and  de- 
clined to  answer  any  questions  put  to  him. 

After  a  short  detention  in  the  ante-room,  Seymour  was 
taken  into  the  large  wainscoted  chamber  already  described, 
where  he  found  all  the  members  of  the  council,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Cranmer,  seated  round  a  table  covered  with  green 
cloth.  Before  them  were  piles  of  letters  and  other  papers, 
which  he  knew  at  a  glance  related  to  himself. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  table  sat  the  Earl  of  Warwick, 
with  the  Earl  of  Southampton  on  his  right  hand,  and  Lord 
Russell  on  his  left.  The  countenances  of  the  assemblage 
boded  him  little  good.  But  Seymour  was  not  to  be  daunted 
by  the  stern  and  menacing  looks  fixed  upon  him.  Standing 
between  two  halberdiers,  he  surveyed  the  assemblage  with 
a  glance  of  defiance,  and  making  a  haughty  inclination  to 
them,  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

**  My  lord,"  said  Warwick,  **we  trust — though  your  proud 
and  assured  deportment  seems  scarcely  to  warrant  such  a 
conclusion — that  the  confinement  you  have  undergone  has 
wrought  in  you  a  penitent  spirit,  and  that  you  are  prepared 
to  confess  the  heinous  off'ences  and  treasons  of  which  you 
have  been  guilty — ^and  of  which  we  may  tell  you  we  have 
proof — and  throw  yourself  upon  your  offended  sovereign's 
mercy. ' ' 

' '  I  have  nothing  to  confess,  my  lord, ' '  rejoined  the  admiral, 
sternly.     **  I  have  been  guilty  of  no  crimes  !" 

' '  We  have  the   depositions   of  various  witnesses  against 


Chap.  /]         SHARINGTON  CONFRONTS  SEYMOUR  435 

you,"  said  Warwick.  "They  shall  be  read,  and  you  can 
then  disprove  them,  if  you  have  the  power. ' ' 

'*  I  demand  an  open  trial,"  rejoined  Seymour.  "  I  refuse 
to  answer  any  interrogations  which  you,  my  Lord  of  Warwick, 
or  your  colleagues,  may  put  to  me,  knowing  you  to  be  my 
mortal  enemies." 

"  Do  you  venture  to  impugn  the  justice  of  the  council?" 
said  Warwick. 

*'I  do,"  rejoined  Seymour.  "You  may  spare  yourselves 
the  trouble  of  reading  those  depositions  to  me.  I  shall  not 
reply  to  them." 

"We  will  find  a  way  to  move  you,  if  you  continue  thus 
stubborn,  my  lord,"  remarked  Southampton.  "The  rack 
may  make  you  speak. '  * 

"Not  if  you  turn  the  wheel  yourself,  my  lord,  with  as 
much  zeal  as  you  did  against  poor  Anne  Askew,"  retorted 
Seymour.  "How  know  I  by  what  means  these  depositions 
against  me  have  been  procured  ?  Let  my  accusers  be  con- 
fronted with  me,  and  we  shall  then  see  whether  they  will 
maintain  their  charges  to  my  face. '  * 

"We  might  well  refuse  your  demand,"  replied  Warwick. 
"  But  to  prove  that  we  are  not  so  inimical  as  you  represent  us, 
it  shall  be  granted.   Let  Sir  William  Sharington  be  brought  in. ' ' 

After  a  short  pause,  the  unfortunate  master  of  the  mint  was 
introduced  by  a  side  door.  Wholly  unable  to  walk  without 
support,  he  had  to  be  accommodated  with  a  chair.  He  gave 
a  terrified  and  half-imploring  look  at  the  admiral,  and  then 
cast  down  his  eyes. 

"Sir  William  Sharington,"  said  Warwick,  "you  have 
already  confessed  that  you  have  coined  ten  thousand  pounds 
of  false  money,  and  clipped  coin  to  the  extent  of  forty  thou- 
sand pounds.  At  whose  instigation,  and  for  whose  benefit, 
did  you  commit  these  offences  ?  * ' 

"Before  you  answer.  Sir  William,"  cried  Seymour,  "  I  de- 
sire you  will  look  me  straight  in  the  face." 


436  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOiVER  [Book  IV 

**  Speak  !"  cried  Warwick,  **and  declare  the  truth." 

*'I  cannot  speak,"  said  Sharington,  quailing  beneath  the 
admiral's  terrible  gaze.      **  His  glances  pierce  into  my  soul." 

**You  have  wrung  this  confession  from  him  by  torture," 
cried  Seymour.  **  He  has  accused  me  to  save  himself.  Is 
it  not  so.  Sir  William?" 

**  Do  not  let  him  intimidate  you,  sir,  but  avow  the  truth," 
said  Warwick.     "  You  cannot  deny  your  own  confession." 

**  Was  it  not  extorted  by  the  rack?  "  cried  Seymour. 

*  'Ay,  marry  was  it, ' '  replied  Sharington ;  '  *  else  I  had  con- 
fessed nothing.  I  pray  you  forgive  me,  my  lord,  for  what  I 
have  done." 

**  I  freely  forgive  you,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  **  though  you 
have  placed  a  weapon  against  me  in  the  hands  of  my  enemies. 
But  they  cannot  use  it  now. ' ' 

*  *  The  council  cannot  be  trifled  with  in  this  manner,  sir,  *  * 
observed  Southampton  to  the  master  of  the  mint.  *'Are  the 
charges  you  have  made  against  Lord  Seymour  true,  or  false  ? 
Answer ! ' ' 

**  Take  me  hence,  and  place  me  again  upon  the  rack,  if  you 
will,"  cried  Sharington.  **  I  would  rather  die  than  submit 
to  these  interrogations." 

*'Thou  wilt  die  by  the  hangman's  hand,  thou  false  and 
equivocating  knave!"  cried  Warwick.  ''But  we  have  thy 
confession — signed  by  thine  own  hand — and  that  is  enough. 
Take  him  hence  ! "  he  added  to  the  guard. 

And,  much  to  his  own  relief,  the  unfortunate  man  was  re- 
moved. 

"  Your  first  accusation  falls  to  the  ground,  my  lords,"  said 
Seymour,  triumphantly.  "And  I  doubt  not  all  the  rest  will 
do  so." 

' '  Do  not  delude  yourself  with  any  such  notion,  my  lord, ' ' 
said  Southampton.  '^  We  are  all  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  Sir 
William  Sharington' s  confession,  and  it  is  sufficient  to  con- 
demn  you.      But   your   crimes   are   manifold,    as   they   are 


Chap.  /]         SHARINGTON  CONFRONTS  SEYMOUR  437 

heinous.  Thirty-six  articles  of  high  treason  and  other  mis- 
demeanors against  the  Crown  will  be  exhibited  against  you. 
You  are  charged  with  using  all  your  natural  influence  over 
our  youthful  sovereign's  mind  to  dissatisfy  him  with  the  gov- 
ernment, and  to  get  the  control  of  affairs  into  your  own 
hands — with  corrupting  by  bribes  certain  gentlemen  of  the 
privy-chamber  and  others — with  promising  his  majesty's  hand 
in  marriage — ^with  endeavoring  to  obtain  possession  of  his 
person^  to  the  infinite  peril  of  the  realm — with  confederating 
with  divers  disaffected  noblemen  and  gentlemen — with  secretly 
raising  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  providing  money 
and  supplies  for  that  force  for  one  month.  You  are  also 
charged  with  putting  your  castle  of  Holt,  in  Denbighshire,  into 
a  state  of  defence,  with  providing  it  with  a  strong  garrison 
and  stores  of  war,  with  fortifying  your  castle  of  Sudley,  in 
Gloucestershire,  and  with  possessing  yourself  of  the  strong 
and  dangerous  Isles  of  Scilly,  to  which  you  purposed  to  re- 
treat. All  this  you  have  done  with  the  design  of  exciting 
rebellion,  and  causing  civil  war.  In  addition  to  these  atro- 
cious crimes,  you  are  charged  with  others  of  a  more  dishonor- 
able nature,  and  which  must  stamp  your  name  with  perpetual 
infamy.  Not  only  are  you  taxed  with  inciting  and  abetting 
the  gigantic  frauds  perpetrated  by  Sir  William  Sharington,  but 
it  is  objected  against  you,  and  can  be  proved,  that  you  have 
abused  the  high  office  with  which  you  have  been  intrusted  by 
extorting  money  from  merchantmen  under  various  false  pleas 
and  pretences,  by  seizing  upon  wrecks  and  refusing  restitution 
to  the  rightful  owners,  and  by  conspiring  with  pirates  and 
sharing  their  plunder.  To  this  long  catalogue  of  offences,  it 
may  be  added  that  you  have  secretly  attempted  to  obtain  the 
hand  in  marriage  of  his  majesty's  sister,  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth, second  inheritor  of  the  crown,  well  knowing  that  such 
marriage  would  be  against  the  late  king's  will,  and  could  not 
be  contracted  without  consent  of  the  council.  What  answer 
make  you  to  these  charges  ? ' ' 


438  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  iBooklV 

**  I  deny  them  all,"  replied  Seymour,  boldly. 

**Your  denial  will  avail  nothing.  We  have  damnatory 
proofs  against  you.  We  have  the  statements  of  Ugo  Har- 
rington, the  wretched  man  slain  by  you — the  depositions 
of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset — of  Fowler,  of  the  privy -chamber — 
of  Hombeak,  Blades,  and  other  pirates  with  whom  you  have 
conspired,  and  who  are  now  lodged  in  the  Fleet — ^and  of  the 
Princess  Elizabeth's  governess.  Mistress  Ashley.  Of  the  long 
list  of  offences  with  which  you  are  charged,  there  is  not  one 
but  can  be  proved. ' ' 

*'  Still  I  repeat  my  emphatic  denial  of  them  all,"  said  the 
admiral.  '*I  will  answer  every  accusation  brought  against 
me,  but  not  here.  I  demand  an  open  trial,  and,  in  justice, 
you  cannot  refuse  it. ' ' 

**  Crimes  of  such  magnitude  as  yours  cannot  be  publicly 
discussed  with  safety  to  the  state,"  rejoined  Southampton. 
"Following  the  precedents  afforded  in  such  cases  during 
the  late  reign,  a  bill  of  attainder  will  be  brought  against 
you. " 

**In  other  words,  you  mean  to  destroy  me,"  interrupted 
Seymour.  *  *  I  am  to  be  condemned  unheard.  Finish  this 
mockery  of  justice,  and  sentence  me  at  once  to  the  block." 

"  If  you  are  convicted  of  your  crimes,  my  lord,  your  sen- 
tence will  follow  quickly  enough,"  observed  Warwick — 
"  more  quickly  perchance  than  you  may  desire.  The  articles 
of  treason  objected  against  you  shall  be  left  with  you,  and  you 
can  answer  them  as  you  see  fit.  This  is  all  the  grace  we 
deign  to  confer.  We  are  satisfied  of  your  guilt,  and  your  bold 
denial  of  the  charges  does  not  shake  our  conviction.  Ever 
since  your  royal  nephew  came  to  the  throne  you  have  been 
plotting  and  contriving  for  increase  of  power,  and  if  Heaven 
had  not  thwarted  them,  infinite  danger  to  the  king's  person, 
and  subversion  of  the  whole  state  of  the  realm,  might  have  fol- 
lowed your  traitorous  designs.  We  can  hold  out  no  hope 
to  you.     Leze-majesty  and   other  high   crimes  and  misde- 


Chap,  II]         SEYMOUR  IVRITES  TO  ELIZABETH  439 

meanors  have  been  proved  against  you,  and  you  will  meet 
a  traitor's  doom." 

**  I  will  meet  my  death  resolutely,  come  how  or  when 
it  may,"  rejoined  Seymour.  **I  spared  your  life,  my  Lord 
of  Warwick,  when  you  were  in  my  power,  and  it  is  thus  you 
requite  me.  Your  aim  is  to  destroy  me.  But  you  will  fail. 
The  king  will  not  see  me  perish. ' ' 

**  The  king  cannot  pardon  a  convicted  traitor,"  said  War- 
wick. **  Once  more,  do  you  persist  in  your  refusal  to  answer 
our  interrogations  ? ' ' 

**  Resolutely,"  said  Seymour. 

"Then  the  examination  need  be  no  further  continued," 
pursued  Warwick.    **  Let  the  prisoner  be  removed.  Sir  John. ' ' 

On  this,  the  admiral  was  withdrawn,  and  taken  back  to  the 
Bowyer  Tower. 


CHAPTER  II 


BY  WHOSE  AID   THE  ADMIRAL   SENT  A  LETTER  TO    THE 
PRINCESS  ELIZABETH 

Three  days  after  the  examination  just  described,  Seymour 
was  visited  in  his  cell  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and  some  others 
of  the  council,  who  came  to  receive  his  answers  to  the  articles 
of  impeachment.  He  had  cautiously  limited  himself,  it  ap- 
peared, to  a  few  brief  rejoinders,  explanatory  of  his  motives 
for  supplying  the  king  with  money,  and  bestowing  presents 
upon  Fowler  and  other  grooms  of  the  chamber.  To  the  more 
serious  charges  a  simple  and  emphatic  denial  was  all  he  deigned 
to  return. 

Throughout  this  second  interview,  Seymour  conducted  him- 
self with  the  same  spirit  and  determination  which  he  had 
heretofore  evinced.     No  menaces  could   shake  him.     Per- 


440  THE  COmTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Booh  IF 

emptorily  refusing  to  answer  the  articles  in  detail,  and  object- 
ing even  to  sign  the  short  rejoinders  he  had  made,  he  persisted 
in  his  demand  for  an  open  trial,  and  inveighed  against  the 
secret  and  inquisitorial  examinations  to  which  he  was  sub- 
jected, declaring  that  he  would  answer  no  more  interroga- 
tions.    Thereupon  Warwick  and  the  others  left  him. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  bill  of  attainder  was  brought  into  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  passed  without  delay.  When  trans- 
mitted to  the  Commons,  it  encountered  strenuous  opposition 
at  first,  but  this  was  overruled  by  the  lord  protector's  influ- 
ence, and  the  bill  likewise  passed  the  Lower  House.  But  not 
without  considerable  persuasion  from  the  council,  in  which 
even  Cranmer  joined,  was  the  royal  assent  obtained.  This 
was  given  on  the  loth  of  March,  1549. 

Seymour  had  been  now  nearly  two  months  a  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.  Though  his  fortitude  remained  unshaken,  his  proud 
and  impatient  spirit  chafed  sorely  against  his  confinement. 
No  one  was  allowed  to  see  him  unless  with  a  written  order 
from  the  constable  of  the  Tower,  and  then  only  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  gaoler.  Apprehensions  being  entertained  lest  he 
might  find  means  of  secretly  conveying  a  letter  to  his  royal 
nephew,  the  writing  materials  which  had  been  left  with  him, 
when  it  was  hoped  he  might  answer  the  articles  of  impeach- 
ment, were  removed.  No  entreaties  or  promises  could  pre- 
vail upon  Tombs  to  supply  him  with  them  again. 

Cut  off  from  communication  with  the  outer  world ;  de- 
prived of  all  books,  save  a  few  godly  tracts  left  with  him  by 
Latimer,  by  whom  he  was  occasionally  visited,  and  who  pro- 
nounced him  in  a  most  sinful,  hardened,  and  deplorable  con- 
dition; devoured  by  ambition;  tormented  by  an  incurable 
passion;  the  admiral,  it  will  easily  be  imagined,  passed  his 
time  wretchedly  enough.  Still,  he  was  true  to  himself;  still, 
he  continued  haughty  and  unyielding. 

On  the  night  of  that  unlucky  day  when  the  bill  of  at- 
tainder received  the  royal  assent,  of  which  circumstance  he 


Chap,  //]         SEYMOUR  IVRITES  TO  ELIZABETH  441 

was  informed  by  Tombs,  he  remained  seated  beside  his  table 
to  a  late  hour,  with  his  face  covered  by  his  hands. 

All  at  once  a  noise,  proceeding,  as  it  seemed,  from  a  loop- 
hole some  feet  from  the  ground,  caused  him  to  raise  his  eyes, 
and  to  his  great  astonishment  he  beheld,  by  the  dim  light 
of  the  iron  lamp  illumining  the  cell,  a  diminutive  figure 
standing  within  the  aperture.  While  he  was  staring  at  this 
apparition,  the  little  personage  called  out : 

'**Tis  I,  my  lord — Xit,  his  majesty's  somewhile  dwarf. 
Aid  me  to  descend,  I  beseech  you.  An  I  leap  I  shall  break 
my  neck,  and  that  is  not  a  death  I  desiderate. ' ' 

On  this,  Seymour  advanced  towards  the  aperture,  and 
catching  the  dwarf,  who  sprang  towards  him,  in  his  arms,  set 
him  on  the  ground. 

**  What  brings  thee  here  ?  "  said  the  admiral.  **  Know'st 
thou  not  it  is  as  much  as  thy  life  is  worth  to  visit  me 
thus  privily?" 

**  I  know  that  right  well,  my  lord,"  replied  Xit ;  **  and  I 
have  adventured  my  life  to  serve  you.  Your  generosity  to- 
wards me  demanded  a  return,  and  I  determined  to  prove  my 
gratitude.  Having  been  discharged  from  my  post  near  his 
majesty  by  the  lord  protector,  because  he  found  out  that  I 
had  conveyed  messages  to  your  lordship,  I  have  once  more  be- 
come an  inmate  of  the  Tower,  and  now  lodge  with  the  three 
giant  warders.  It  was  by  the  aid  of  Og,  the  elder  of  the 
brethren,  that  I  obtained  admission  to  your  cell.  He  placed 
me  on  his  shoulders,  whence  I  clambered  to  yon  loophole; 
and  though  it  was  no  easy  matter,  even  for  one  of  my  slender 
proportions,  I  contrived  to  squeeze  myself  through  the  bars. 
Og  is  standing  outside  to  aid  me  on  my  return." 

*' I  owe  thee  much  for  thy  fidelity,"  replied  Seymour, 
greatly  touched  by  the  dwarfs  devotion.  **  Of  all  who  have 
profited  by  my  bounty,  thou  art  the  only  one  who  has  ex- 
hibited gratitude.     But  how  dost  thou  propose  to  aid  me  ? ' ' 

'*  I  thought  your  Lordship  might  desire  to  have  some  letter 


442  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER         [Book  IV 

or  message  conveyed  for  you,  and  as  I  knew  Master  Tombs 
would  neither  do  your  will,  nor  allow  it  to  be  done,  I  have 
come  thus  privily  to  offer  myself  as  your  messenger. ' ' 

*  *  I  am  much  beholden  to  thee, ' '  said  Seymour.  *  *  I  have  not 
the  means  of  writing  a  letter,  or  I  would  confide  one  to  thee. 
My  tablets  are  left  me,  but  I  have  neither  pen  nor  pencil.'* 

"That  is  most  unlucky,"  said  Xit.  "But  I  will  come 
again — ^and  better  provided  ! ' ' 

"Stay!"  cried  Seymour;  "a  plan  occurs  to  me.  This 
point  shall  answer  my  purpose. '  * 

And  plucking  a  sharp  aglet  from  his  dress,  he  punctured 
his  arm  with  it,  and  proceeded  to  trace  a  few  passionate  words 
with  his  blood  on  a  leaf  of  the  tablets. 

This  done,  he  closed  the  book,  tied  it  with  a  ribbon,  and 
gave  it  to  Xit. 

*  *  Deliver  this,  I  pray  thee,  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth, ' '  he 
said.  "  Guard  it  as  thy  life.  Hast  thou  any  knowledge  where 
her  highness  now  is  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  that  she  is  at  Shene,"  replied  Xit.  "  If  so, 
I  will  engage  that  your  lordship's  missive  shall  be  delivered 
into  her  own  hands  to-morrow  morning. ' ' 

"  Thou  wilt  do  me  the  greatest  possible  service,"  cried  the 
admiral.  "Whatever  betide,  let  me  see  thee  again  on  the 
morning  of  my  execution.  I  may  have  another  letter  or 
message  for  thee. '  * 

' '  I  will  not  fail, ' '  replied  Xit. 

Seymour  was  about  to  tear  some  ornament  from  his  attire  in 
order  to  reward  his  little  envoy,  when  Xit  stopped  him,  saying 
he  would  accept  nothing  till  he  had  executed  his  mission. 

"I  must  now  entreat  your  Lordship's  aid  to  reach  the  loop- 
hole," he  said. 

On  this,  Seymour  lifted  him  from  the  ground,  and  the 
ascent  was  quickly  and  safely  accomplished. 

This  done,  Xit  pressed  his  hand  to  his  heart  in  token  of 
devotion,  and  disappeared. 


Chap.  Ill}         ELIZABETH  IN  SEYMOUR^S  CEU  443 


CHAPTER  III 


HOW  THE  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH  VISITED  THE  ADMIRAL  IN 
HIS  CELL 

On  the  following  day,  the  admiral  was  again  visited  by 
Latimer,  who  strove,  but  ineffectually,  to  bend  his  haughty 
spirit  and  bring  him  to  a  state  of  penitence.  Not  being  in  a 
mood  to  listen  to  homilies,  Seymour  impatiently  interrupted 
the  divine,  and  bade  him  leave  him  in  peace.  Finding  all 
his  efforts  fruitless,  Latimer  desisted,  and  took  his  departure, 
recommending  the  obdurate  man  to  make  his  peace  with 
Heaven,  for  his  time  was  short. 

Again  night  arrived.  Seymour  was  pacing  his  cell,  full  of 
gloomy  thought,  when  the  door  was  unbarred,  and  the  con- 
stable of  the  Tower  entered.  But  not  alone.  He  was  at- 
tended by  a  young  personage  wrapped  in  an  ample  velvet 
mantle,  whose  features  were  so  muffled  up  that  by  the  dim 
light  of  the  lamp  it  was  difficult  to  determine  whether  they 
belonged  to  youth  or  maiden.  But  though  the  gaoler  and 
others  might  have  been  deceived  by  this  disguise,  Seymour 
was  not.  He  instantly  recognized  his  beloved  Elizabeth, 
and  springing  towards  her,  cried  out,  "Oh!  you  are  come, 
princess  ! — you  are  come  !  "  while  she,  throwing  off  her  dis- 
guise, and  disregarding  the  presence  of  the  constable,  flung 
herself  into  his  arms. 

Their  first  transports  of  delight  had  scarcely  subsided,  and 
they  were  still  gazing  at  each  other  with  unutterable  fondness, 
almost  unconscious  where  they  were,  when  Sir  John  Gage 
deemed  it  necessary  to  interfere,  and  remind  them  that  their 
interview  must  be  brief. 

''I  am  disobeying  the  lord  protector  and  the  council  in 


444  7'//E   CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  [Book  I i^ 

allowing  this  visit,'*  he  said;  **but  I  could  not  resist  the 
princess's  entreaties.  However,  I  cannot  give  you  many 
minutes.     During  that  time  I  will  remain  outside. ' ' 

On  this,  he  withdrew,  and  closed  the  door  after  him. 

**0h!  Seymour!"  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  looking  passion- 
ately at  him,  "with  what  mingled  feelings  of  rapture  and 
anguish  do  I  behold  you  again !  When  last  we  parted  I 
thought  you  would  return  to  me  in  triumph,  and  demand  my 

hand.     And  now  ! Oh  !  this  is  more  than  I  can  bear  !  ' ' 

And  she  burst  into  a  passionate  flood  of  tears. 

*'Calm  yourself,  dearest  Elizabeth,'*  said  Seymour. 
*' Your  grief  unmans  me,  and  I  have  need  of  all  my  firm- 
ness. ' ' 

**  Yes,  I  will  be  calm,"  she  rejoined.  "  I  will  smile  and  be 
cheerful,  though  my  heart  is  breaking.  Oh  !  ' '  and  she  placed 
her  hand  upon  her  bosom — "  think  not  that  I  have  been  in- 
different to  you,  Seymour.  No  tongue  can  tell  the  anguish 
I  have  endured  since  your  arrest.  But  the  protector's  vigi- 
lance rendered  it  impossible  for  me  to  write  to  you,  or  convey 
any  message,  neither  have  I  been  permitted  to  see  the  king — 
or  even  to  write  to  him — so  that  I  could  not  plead  in  your 
behalf.  The  dreadful  news  of  yesterday — that  Edward  had 
given  his  assent  to  the  bill  of  attainder — had  just  reached  me, 
and  overwhelmed  me  with  grief,  when  your  faithful  little  mes- 
senger found  me  out,  and  delivered  your  tablets.  Then  I  was 
resolved  at  all  hazards  to  see  you.  Heedless  of  consequences, 
I  left  Shene  this  afternoon  with  the  trusty  dwarf,  who  served 
me  with  the  utmost  devotion,  and  through  his  agency  ob- 
tained admittance  to  Sir  John  Gage,  who,  while  blaming  my 
rashness,  yielded  at  length  to  my  entreaties,  and  brought  me 
hither." 

*' Heaven  bless  him  for  it!"  exclaimed  Seymour.  '*He 
has  given  me  more  happiness  than  I  ever  expected  on  earth. 
The  thought  of  this  meeting  will  cheer  me  on  the  scaffold. ' ' 

*'  You  shall  not  die,  Seymour,"  shrieked  Elizabeth.    '*  'Tis 


Chap.  Ill]         ELIZABETH  IN  SEYMOUR'S   CELL  445 

horrible  to  think  that  a  foul  and  murtherous  caitiff  should 
disfigure  a  godlike  form  like  yours,  and  sever  such  a  head 
from  such  a  frame  !  No — no — it  cannot — shall  not  be.  I 
will  intercede  for  you  with  Edward.  I  know  he  loves  me, 
and  I  think  he  will  yield  to  my  entreaties,  and  spare  youi 
life." 

*'  He  loved  me  once,  too,"  said  Seymour,  bitterly.  **  But 
my  enemies  have  turned  his  heart  from  me  by  their  calumnies. 
Whatever  his  will  may  be,  Edward  cannot  save  me.  The 
lord  protector  and  the  council  control  him,  and  they  are  bent, 
it  is  plain,  on  my  destruction." 

' '  Then  I  will  go  to  fhem, ' '  cried  Elizabeth.  *  *  I  will  plead 
for  you  on  my  knees.     They  cannot  refuse  me.** 

Seymour  shook  his  head. 

'*  Such  an  avowal  of  your  love  for  me  will  be  to  them  an 
additional  motive  for  my  destruction,'*  he  said. 

''What  is  to  be  done?"  cried  Elizabeth,  distractedly. 
*'  You  must  not — shall  not  die." 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  cell  opened,  and  Sir  John 
Gage  stepped  in. 

'*  It  grieves  me  to  interrupt  you,"  he  said,  in  accents  of 
profound  sympathy.  '*But  the  moment  of  separation  is 
arrived.     You  must  part  forever." 

"Not  forever,  Sir  John!"  cried  Elizabeth.  "I  shall 
bring  Lord  Seymour  a  pardon.  The  king  my  brother,  the 
lord  protector,  and  the  council,  will  listen  to  my  prayers." 

''Indulge  no  false  hopes,  princess,"  said  Gage.  **The 
lord  protector  and  the  council  are  inexorable. ' ' 

' '  Then  I  will  not  go  hence, '  *  shrieked  Elizabeth.  "  I  will 
stay  here  and  die  with  him. ' ' 

"Princess,  I  pray  you,  come  with  me,"  cried  the  con- 
stable. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  she  rejoined,  clinging  desperately  to  Sey- 
mour. "  Hold  me  fast,  my  loved  lord  ! — hold  me  fast !  Let 
nim  not  tear  me  hence  !" 


446  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER         [Book  IV 

*'  Do  not  forget  yourself,  princess,  I  implore  you  !  "  cried 
the  constable.     **  Do  not  compel  me  to  employ  force." 

** Stand  off,  Sir  John!"  cried  Elizabeth,  impetuously. 
*'  Stand  off,  I  command  you !  Hear  what  I  have  to  say,  and 
let  it  abide  in  your  recollection.  I  here  solemnly  affiance 
myself  before  Heaven  to  Lord  Seymour,  and  I  register  a  vow 
that  if  he  be  put  to  death  by  his  brother,  I  will  wed  no  other 
man. ' ' 

'*  Retract  this  rash  oath,  princess,  I  implore  you,"  said  the 
constable.     *  *  Hereafter,  in  calmer  moments,  you  will  rue  it. ' ' 

'*  Never,"  rejoined  Elizabeth,  emphatically.  "  Heaven  so 
help  me,  as  I  keep  it  religiously." 

**  I  have  not  merited  this  love,"  cried  Seymour,  in  a  voice 
suffocated  by  emotion.  '*  But  the  cup  of  happiness  is  pre- 
sented to  me  only  to  be  dashed  from  my  lips. ' ' 

**  My  lord,"  said  the  constable  to  Seymour,  **  it  rests  with 
you  to  put  an  end  to  this  painful  scene.  To  prolong  it  will 
but  increase  your  distress.     The  princess  must  go  hence. ' ' 

"Will  you  have  it  so?"  cried  Elizabeth,  still  clinging 
fondly  to  him. 

**  It  must  be,"  he  rejoined,  despairingly.  **  One  last  em- 
brace," he  added,  straining  her  to  his  bosom.  "Take  her, 
good  Sir  John." 

Elizabeth  made  no  further  opposition.  Half  fainting,  she 
almost  fell  from  his  arms.  Hastily  enveloping  her  in  the 
mantle,  and  wrapping  the  couvre-chef  about  her  head,  the 
constable  led  her  towards  the  door.  Before  going  forth,  she 
cast  one  farewell  look  at  Seymour,  who  stood  as  if  transfixed 
by  despair. 

The  clangor  of  the  closing  door  roused  him  from  this  stupor. 
The  pang  he  felt  was  intolerable.  With  a  wild  cry  he  threw 
himself  on  his  pallet.  Death  could  have  no  greater  bitterness 
for  him. 


Chap,  /K]  THE  DEATH-H^ARRA^iT  SIGNED  447 


CHAPTER  IV 

HOW  THE  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH  INTERCEDED  FOR  THE  AD- 
MIRAL WITH  THE  KING;  AND  HOW  THE  DEATH-WAR- 
RANT WAS  SIGNED 

Notwithstanding  the  endeavors  of  Sir  John  Gage  to  dis- 
suade her  from  the  attempt,  and  the  assurances  of  the  worthy 
constable  that  it  would  be  fruitless,  Elizabeth  was  resolved  to 
solicit  the  admiral's  pardon  from  the  king,  and  by  her  tears 
and  entreaties  succeeded  in  wringing  consent  from  Gage  to 
procure  her  an  interview  with  her  royal  brother. 

Accordingly,  on  the  following  day,  the  constable  met  her 
at  the  entrance  of  the  palace  of  Whitehall,  and  conducted  her 
to  the  royal  apartments.  Had  the  princess  not  been  thus  at- 
tended she  would  have  been  refused  admittance;  but  the 
authority  of  Sir  John  Gage,  as  comptroller  of  the  household, 
was  sufficient  to  procure  her  ingress,  and  they  reached  the 
ante-chamber  without  obstruction. 

The  princess's  unexpected  appearance  filled  the  pages  and 
henchmen  there  assembled  with  surprise  and  consternation, 
and  the  chief  usher  advancing  towards  her,  and  making  her  a 
profound  obeisance,  informed  her  gravely,  but  with  much 
respect,  that  it  was  impossible  she  could  see  the  king  at  this 
moment. 

'*  But  I  a//// see  him,"  she  cried,  resolutely.  **  No  blame 
shall  attach  to  you,  sir — I  will  take  it  on  myself. ' ' 

'*  Pardon  me,  gracious  princess,  if  I  am  compelled  to  refuse 
you  admittance,"  rejoined  the  usher.  "The  lord  protector 
and  the  council  are  now  deliberating  amongst  themselves  in 
an  adjoining  chamber,  and  as  soon  as  their  consultation  is 
ended  they  will  return  to  his  majesty." 


448  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Bookie 

The  significant  look  given  by  the  usher  to  Sir  John  Gage 
did  not  escape  Elizabeth. 

'*  They  are  deliberating  about  the  lord  admiral's  execution. 
Is  it  not  so  ? — speak  ! ' ' 

*^  Your  Highness  has  guessed  right,"  replied  the  usher,  re- 
luctantly. 

*'Then  I  must  see  the  king  my  brother  without  delay," 
cried  the  princess. 

**I  guess  your  object,  gracious  lady,  and  would  willingly 
further  it,"  said  the  usher,  in  a  tone  of  deep  sympathy ;  "  but 
I  dare  not  disobey  my  orders. ' ' 

' '  Is  his  majesty  alone  ? '  *  inquired  the  constable. 

''He  is.  Sir  John,"  answered  the  usher.  *'The  Bishop 
of  Ely  and  Doctor  Latimer  have  just  left  him.  But  the  lord 
protector  and  the  council  may  return  at  any  moment,  and 
then—" 

' '  You  hear,  princess  ? ' '  said  the  constable. 

''I  do,"  she  replied.  *'  But  you  promised  to  bring  me  to 
the  king.     I  call  upon  you  to  make  good  your  word. ' ' 

*'Nay,  then,  I  must  needs  comply,"  returned  the  consta- 
ble. *'You  shall  not  suffer  for  this,  sir,  with  the  lord  pro- 
tector, ' '  he  added  to  the  usher ;  * '  the  fault  is  mine,  and  I 
will  bear  the  blame.  There  is  no  need  to  announce  her 
highness. ' ' 

With  this,  he  took  Elizabeth's  hand,  and  led  her  on.  The 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  they  entered  a  spacious  cham- 
ber, at  the  upper  end  of  which  Edward  was  discovered,  seated 
beside  a  table.  A  book  was  open  before  him,  but  it  was  evi- 
dent he  was  not  engaged  in  its  perusal. 

On  seeing  Elizabeth  he  arose,  and  advanced  slowly  to  meet 
her.  He  was  magnificently  attired  in  a  jerkin  of  cloth  of 
gold  raised  with  purple  velvet  and  tissue,  over  which  he  wore 
a  purple  velvet  gown,  embroidered  with  gold,  and  lined  and 
trimmed  with  ermine.  His  cap  was  of  black  velvet,  richly 
ornamented  with  diamonds,  rubies,  and  other  precious  stones, 


Chap.  /K]  THE  DEATH -IV ARRANT  SIGNED  449 

and  having  a  white  feather  in  it,  inclining  towards  the  right 
ear.  His  splendor,  however,  accorded  ill  with  his  looks.  He 
moved  feebly,  and  looked  pale,  careworn,  and  unhappy. 
Never  before  had  he  greeted  Elizabeth  as  he  greeted  her  now. 
In  a  sharp,  almost  angry  voice,  he  demanded  why  she  came 
there,  and  how  she  had  obtained  admittance. 

'*  It  is  my  fault,  sire,"  interposed  the  constable.  **  I  have 
ventured  to  disobey  orders. ' ' 

"Then  you  have  done  wrong — ^very  wrong.  Sir  John. 
Know  you  not  ? ' '     And  he  suddenly  stopped. 

**  I  know  it  all,  sire,"  said  Elizabeth,  casting  herself  at  his 
feet.  * '  I  come  as  a  suppliant  for  the  admiral,  and  will  not 
quit  this  posture  till  you  consent  to  spare  him. ' ' 

*'Alas !  Elizabeth,"  rejoined  Edward,  sadly,  *'you  ask 
a  grace  which  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  bestow.  My  unhappy 
uncle  is  attainted  and  condemned  by  the  Parliament,  and 
I  have  been  compelled,  though  sorely  against  my  will,  to 
ratify  the  sentence.  The  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors 
of  which  he  has  been  guilty  leave  him  no  hope  of  pardon." 

'*No  hope,  sire!"  cried  Elizabeth.  "Oh,  say  not  so. 
One  word  from  you  will  save  him.  Pronounce  it,  royal 
brother,  for  my  sake — for  the  sake  of  your  future  peace,  for 
your  breast  will  never  be  free  from  remorse  if  you  suffer  him 
to  perish. ' ' 

"I  have  not  judged  my  uncle,"  said  Edward.  "He  has 
been  justly  condemned.  His  terrible  designs  were  happily 
frustrated,  but  if  they  had  succeeded,  the  whole  state  would 
have  been  subverted,  the  kingdom  devastated  by  civil  war,  and 
I  myself  perchance  driven  from  the  throne — to  make  way  for 
him." 

"These  are  the  charges  of  the  admiral's  enemies,  sire," 
rejoined  Elizabeth.  ' '  He  has  had  no  opportunity  of  disproving 
them,  for  an  open  trial,  which  he  demanded,  was  refused 
him.  His  aim  was  to  free  your  Majesty,  to  whom  he  is 
devoted,  from  the  thraldom  in  which  you  are  placed.  For 
29 


450  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  iBook  IV 

this  he  is  to  be  sacrificed.  But  no,  sire,  you  will  not  do 
it.  Your  noble  and  generous  nature  must  revolt  at  such 
injustice.  You  will  not  aid  the  lord  protector  in  his  fratri- 
cidal schemes." 

'*  Peace,  Elizabeth  ;  you  go  too  far." 

*'No,  sire,  I  speak  the  truth,  and  it  shall  out.  Nothing 
but  his  brother's  life  will  content  the  Duke  of  Somerset. 
'Tis  he  who,  by  his  artful  misrepresentations,  has  steeled 
your  breast  against  your  once-loved  uncle — 'tis  he  who  has 
procured  this  bill  of  attainder  against  him — who  has  stifled 
his  cries — and  would  now  force  you  to  aid  him  in  the  work  of 
destruction.  Is  not  the  admiral  bound  to  you  by  ties  of  near 
relationship?  Will  you  sunder  those  ties?  Will  you  allow 
the  lord  protector  to  imbrue  his  hands  in  his  brother's  blood, 
and  compel  you  to  share  bis  guilt  ?  Have  patience  with  me, 
sire.     I  am  half  distracted. ' ' 

''What  mean  these  passionate  supplications,  Elizabeth? 
You  plead  for  him  as  for  a  husband. ' ' 

''  He  is  almost  my  husband,  sire.  I  have  affianced  myself 
to  him." 

'*  Ha  !"  exclaimed  Edward,  with  a  look  of  displeasure. 

' '  You  have  hurt  your  cause  by  that  admission, ' '  whispered 
the  constable. 

' '  I  am  sorry  to  hear  what  you  tell  me,  Elizabeth,  because 
such  a  marriage  never  could  take  place.  'Tis  against  our 
royal  father's  will.  You  must  reconcile  yourself  to  the  ad- 
miral's fate." 

* '  Then  your  Majesty  is  resolved  to  destroy  him  ?  ' '  cried 
the  princess. 

''Justice  must  take  its  course,"  rejoined  Edward,  somewhat 
sternly.  "  Heaven  knows  how  dearly  I  loved  my  uncle.  Lord 
Seymour,"  he  continued,  in  a  more  softened  tone;  "but  I 
have  been  greatly  deceived  by  him.  His  true  character  has 
been  revealed  to  me — not  by  the  lord  protector,  whom  you 
unjustly  charge  with  sinister  designs — ^but  by  others. ' ' 


Chap.  IV]  THE  DEATH-JVARRANT  SIGNED  45^^ 

''By  whom,  sire?" 

''By  Archbishop  Cranmer — by  the  Bishop  of  Ely — ^by 
Doctor  Latimer.  He  is  restless,  turbulent,  dangerous — too 
restless  and  too  dangerous  to  be  spared.  I  would  he  could  be 
brought  to  a  better  frame  of  mind,  for  I  hear  he  refuses 
all  religious  instruction  and  consolation. ' ' 

' '  Then  cut  him  not  off  in  a  state  of  sin,  sire.  Give  him 
time  for  repentance. ' ' 

"  'Tis  for  the  council,  not  for  me,  to  appoint  the  time  of 
execution,"  replied  Edward,  sadly. 

"The  council  should  obey  you,  sire — not  you  them.  But  if 
you  will  not  grant  him  a  free  pardon — at  least  spare  his  life. 
Doom  him  to  exile — to  imprisonment — but  not  to  the  block." 

' '  His  crimes  are  of  too  deep  a  dye  to  allow  of  any  leniency, " 
responded  Edward. 

"Then  I  have  done,  sire,"  cried  Elizabeth,  rising. 
"Heaven  grant  you  the  pardon  which  you  refuse  to  him." 

At  this  rnoment,  the  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  an 
usher  entered,  announcing  the  lord  protector  and  the  council. 

It  was  now  too  late  for  Elizabeth  to  retire,  but  so  far  from 
being  intimidated  by  the  frowns  of  Somerset,  she  replied  by 
glances  as  menacing  as  his  own, 

"I  would  counsel  you  to  withdraw,  princess,"  he  said, 
sternly. 

"I  thank  your  Highness,"  she  rejoined,  "but  I  design  to 
remain  here." 

"  Nay,  stay  if  you  will,"  he  answered.  "  I  meant  but  to 
spare  your  feelings. ' ' 

On  the  entrance  of  the  council,  Edward  moved  slowly 
towards  a  chair  of  state  placed  beneath  a  canopy,  and  took 
his  seat  upon  it.  The  lord  protector,  followed  by  the  Earls 
of  Warwick  and  Southampton,  then  advanced  towards  him. 
In  his  hand  Somerset  held  a  parchment,  the  sight  of  which 
chilled  the  life-blood  in  Elizabeth's  veins.  She  knew  it  to  be 
the  admiral's  death-warrant. 


452  THE  CONSTABLE   OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  ly 

**Sire,"  said  Somerset,  *' after  due  deliberation,  the  coun- 
cil has  decided  that  the  execution  shall  take  place  to-morrow 
morning  on  Tower-hill." 

At  this  dread  announcement,  Elizabeth  with  difficulty  re- 
pressed a  scream. 

*'So  soon!"  exclaimed  Edward.  ** 'Twere  better  he 
should  live  a  few  days  longer.  'Twill  give  him  more  time 
for  repentance." 

' '  Such  grace  would  little  profit  him,  sire,  while  there  are 
many  cogent  reasons  why  the  execution  should  not  be  de- 
ferred," rejoined  the  duke. 

'*  Can  aught  be  advanced  in  mitigation  of  his  sentence  ?  " 
demanded  Edward. 

'*  Nothing,  sire,  or  I  should  be  the  first  to  suggest  it." 

He  then  called  for  a  pen,  and  offering  the  warrant  to  the 
king,  pressed  him  to  sign  it. 

' '  Cannot  my  signature  be  dispensed  with  ?  ' '  rejoined  Ed- 
ward, averting  his  head.  "  He  is  my  uncle,  and  I  like  not  to 
doom  him  thus." 

* '  He  is  also  my  brother, ' '  rejoined  Somerset.  ' *  Yet  I  shall 
not  hesitate  to  sign  the  warrant.  A  few  strokes  of  the  pen, 
sire, and  it  is  done,"  he  continued,  again  proffering  the  warrant. 

*'But  those  few  strokes  will  destroy  one  whom  I  have 
dearly  loved — and  whom  I  still  love,"  cried  Edward.  *'l 
cannot  do  it. " 

And  he  burst  into  tears. 

*'  Heaven  be  praised,  his  heart  is  touched  !  He  will  spare 
him  !  "  muttered  Elizabeth. 

''If  this  opportunity  passes  by,  our  prey  will  escape," 
whispered  Warwick. 

**  Be  firm,  sire,"  said  the  protector.  *'  You  must  not  yield 
to  this  weakness." 

''Give  me  the  pen,"  cried  Edward.  And  he  hurriedly 
signed  the  warrant.  "Take  it  hence,"  he  cried,  with  a  look 
of  horror,  and  feeling  as  if  he  had  committed  a  crime. 


Chap.  K]       THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION  453 

The  warrant  was  then  countersigned  by  the  protector  and 
the  whole  of  the  council,  after  which  it  was  delivered  to  the 
constable  by  Somerset,  who  bade  him  see  it  executed  on  the 
morrow,  between  the  hours  of  nine  and  twelve  in  the  fore- 
noon, on  Tower-hill. 

**It  shall  be  done,"  replied  the  constable,  in  a  sombre 
tone.  *' Princess,"  he  added  to  Elizabeth,  *'your  errand 
here  is  accomplished.     Come  with  me,  I  pray  you." 

While  Somerset  and  Warwick  were  glancing  at  each  other 
with  ill -disguised  satisfaction,  Elizabeth  approached  them  ere 
they  were  aware,  and  fixing  a  piercing  look  on  the  protector, 
said  in  a  low,  freezing  tone,  *'  Fratricide  !  your  own  turn  will 
come  soon." 

Then  perceiving  a  smile  flit  across  Warwick's  sombre  coun- 
tenance, she  added  to  him  : 

**  Ha  !  you  smile,  my  lord.  I  read  the  secret  of  your  soul. 
You  would  destroy  both  that  you  may  rise  and  rule  in  their 
stead.  But  tremble !  you  will  not  walk  steadily  where  the 
path  is  slippery  with  blood.     You  will  fall  likewise." 

And  she  quitted  the  chamber  with  Gage. 


CHAPTER   V 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION 

Not  unprofitably  may  the  admiral's  last  hours  be  contrasted 
with  those  of  another  noble  captive,  who,  only  two  years  before, 
had  occupied  the  selfsame  cell  in  the  Bowyer  Tower.  Equally 
comely  with  Seymour  was  that  illustrious  captive — equally 
proud,  daring,  and  perhaps  ambitious,  but  yet  more  highly 
born,  more  richly  endowed  in  mind,  and  far  less  guilty  than 
the  admiral. 


454  T^E  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOPVER  [Book  11^ 

Often  did  Seymour,  in  his  long  and  lonely  hours,  think  of 
him — often  did  he  recall  their  last  interview,  and  the  pro- 
phetic denunciation  uttered  by  the  ill-fated  Surrey.  But  far 
more  sadly,  far  more  painfully,  passed  the  last  hours  of  Sey- 
mour's existence  than  Surrey's  had  done.  The  latter  had  no 
guilt  upon  his  soul,  but  had  the  consolations  of  religion  and 
philosophy  to  support  him.  He  could  pray — could  make  his 
shrift  to  his  confessor  and  receive  absolution.  To  Surrey 
it  was  hard  to  die — but  he  was  prepared.  Seymour's  con- 
science was  heavily  laden,  yet  could  not  be  unburthened. 
Within  him  was  a  hell  of  fierce  and  conflicting  passions, 
which  he  was  compelled  to  endure.  His  pride  sustained  him, 
or  he  must  have  sunk  beneath  this  mental  torture.  Groans 
and  fierce  imprecations  burst  from  him — but  he  could  not 
pray.  He  rejected,  as  we  have  seen,  the  efforts  of  Latimer 
and  the  Bishop  of  Ely.  'Twould  be  in  vain,  he  thought, 
to  supplicate  Heaven  for  forgiveness — his  oftences  were  too 
great.     To  man  he  would  never  acknowledge  his  guilt. 

Thus  passed  the  dreary  hours  of  his  last  day  on  earth. 
He  knew  not  that  it  was  his  last,  because  intimation  had  not 
yet  been  given  him  that  the  execution  was  appointed  for 
the  morrow,  and  hope,  not  yet  wholly  extinct  within  his 
breast,  suggested  that  his  life  might  be  spared.  But  he  was 
more  perturbed  in  spirit  than  he  had  ever  hitherto  been. 
Only  rarely  did  he  sit  down;  but  for  the  most  part  con- 
tinued to  pace  fiercely  to  and  fro  within  his  cell,  like  a  tiger 
in  its  cage. 

Towards  night  he  became  somewhat  calmer,  and,  feeling 
exhausted,  sat  down  upon  his  chair,  when  sleep  insensibly 
stole  over  him.  His  dreams  instantly  carried  him  away  from 
his  prison,  and  brought  him  back  to  all  the  splendors  of  his 
gorgeous  palace.  Once  more  he  was  at  the  head  of  a  princely 
retinue — once  more  in  a  spacious  and  richly-furnished  apart- 
ment— once  more  Elizabeth  smiled  upon  him,  and  showed  hiro 
how  to  win  her  hand. 


Chap.  K]       THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION  455 

From  this  bright  dream  he  was  suddenly  and  cruelly  aroused 
by  the  drawing  back  of  the  ponderous  bolts.  The  door 
opened,  and  the  constable  of  the  Tower  came  in  with  the 
warrant  in  his  hand.  His  sad  aspect,  as  revealed  by  the  dim 
light  of  the  lamp  on  the  table,  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  nature 
of  hi^  errand. 

**  Good-night,  Sir  John,"  cried  Seymour,  rising,  and 
speaking  with  forced  composure.  "I  can  guess  the  tidings 
you  bring  me. " 

"My  lord,'*  said  Sir  John,  gravely,  yet  kindly,  "you 
must  prepare  for  eternity,  for  you  will  not  see  another  night 
on  earth.  Your  execution  is  fixed  for  to-morrow  morning. 
It  will  take  place  on  Tower-hill,  and  your  remains  will  after- 
wards be  buried  in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel  in  the  Tower." 

"Where  I  was  married  to  the  queen,"  murmured  Sey- 
mour, almost  mechanically. 

"Where  you  were  married  to  the  queen,"  repeated  the 
constable.  "  Here  is  the  warrant,"  he  added,  laying  it  before 
him. 

"*Tis  signed  by  the  king!"  cried  Seymour,  staring  at 
it.  "I  thought  he  loved  me  too  well  to  do  this.  But  there 
is  no  faith  in  princes.  Did  the  Princess  Elizabeth  speak  with 
him,  as  she  promised,  Sir  John  ?  ' ' 

"She  did,  my  lordj  but  she  could  not  move  him.  His 
majesty  seemed  persuaded  of  your  guilt.  I  can  give  you  no 
further  hope,  but  recommend  you  a  patient  suffering  of  justice, 
and  preparation  to  meet  your  Supreme  Judge." 

"  Remain  with  me  a  few  minutes,  I  pray  you,  good  Sir 
John,"  said  the  admiral,  somewhat  faintly.  "The  shock, 
though  not  unexpected,  is  severer  than  I  deemed  it  would  be." 

"You  are  a  brave  man,  I  know,  my  lord,"  observed  the 
constable,  looking  at  him  with  surprise,  "and  I  fancied  you 
had  no  fear  of  death." 

" Neither  have  I,"  replied  Seymour ;  "but  I  have  not  yet 
lost  my  love  of  life.  One  tie  binds  me  to  earth,  which  nothing 


456  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOWER  [BooJi  JW 

but  the  axe  can  sever.  How  looked  the  princess  to-day,  good 
Sir  John  ?     Did  she  send  any  message  to  me  ?  " 

'*She  bade  you  a  tender  farewell,  and  sent  you  this  em- 
broidered handkerchief,  to  which  her  lips  have  been  pressed," 
replied  the  constable. 

'*Give  it  me,  Sir  John,'*  cried  Seymour,  kissing  it  rap- 
turously. 

''Dismiss  her  image,  if  you  can,  from  your  mind,  my 
lord,"  said  Gage,  '*  and  make  up  your  account  with  Heaven. 
You  have  much,  I  fear,  to  do,  and  but  short  time  to  do  it 
in.     Will  you  see  Doctor  Latimer  to-night  ?  * ' 

'*  No,  Sir  John.  He  troubles  me  more  than  he  instructs  or 
consoles  me.     I  can  pray  to  Heaven  without  his  aid. ' ' 

**  But  if  you  have  any  undivulged  sin,  'twere  well  you  eased 
your  conscience  by  confession,"  remarked  the  constable. 

''Since  Heaven  can  read  the  secrets  of  all  hearts,  mine 
must  be  known  to  it,"  rejoined  Seymour.  "Why  should  I 
reveal  them  to  man  ?  * ' 

"Heaven's  ministers  can  give  you  absolution  for  your 
sins,"  said  Gage.  "Have  compassion  upon  your  soul,  I 
implore  you,  and  save  it  alive.  If  you  will  not  see  a  minister 
of  the  gospel,  let  me  send  a  Romish  priest  to  you.  Ha  !  why 
do  you  stare  so  into  the  vacancy? " 

"Do  you  not  see  him?"  cried  Seymour,  with  horror- 
stricken  looks,  and  pointing  as  he  spoke.  "  There !  close 
behind  you !  " 

"  Whom  do  you  imagine  you  behold  ?  "  asked  the  consta- 
ble, not  altogether  free  from  the  superstitious  terrors  that 
affected  his  companion. 

"A  former  inmate  of  this  cell,"  replied  Seymour,  "who 
died,  as  I  shall  die,  on  Tower-hill. ' ' 

"The  Earl  of  Surrey  !  "  exclaimed  Gage. 

"Ay,  Surrey,"  rejoined  the  admiral.  "He  points  to  his 
bleeding  throat,  as  if  to  show  me  what  my  fate  will  be.  Look 
at  him,  Sir  John  !     Look  at  him  ! ' ' 


Chap.  K]       THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION  457 

*'  I  can  behold  nothing,"  replied  the  constable,  looking  in 
the  direction  to  which  the  admiral  pointed. 

"Ha!  he  vanishes!'*  exclaimed  Seymour.  **But  in  his 
place  another  phantom  rises.  'Tis  the  injured  queen,  my 
consort. ' ' 

**  Queen  Catherine  !  *'  exclaimed  Gage,  in  amazement. 

**Her  features  are  death -like,  and  she  is  wrapped  in  a 
shroud;  but  I  know  her,"  pursued  Seymour.  '*Her  looks 
are  full  of  woe  and  pity.  Oh  !  forgive  me,  injured  queen  ! 
forgive  me!  I  cannot  bear  those  looks."  And  he  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands. 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Gage  made  no  remark, 
but  regarded  his  companion  with  mingled  commiseration  and 
wonder. 

After  awhile,  Seymour  looked  up  again. 

"  She  is  gone  1"  he  cried,  greatly  relieved.  **  But  what  is 
this  ?  Another  spectre  rising  to  blast  me  ?  Hence,  hence  ! 
accursed  fiend  !     Thou  wert  the  cause  of  all." 

'*  Whose  spirit  troubles  you  now,  my  lord  ?  "  said  the  con- 
stable. 

**  That  of  my  malignant  and  treacherous  servant,  Ugo  Har- 
rington," replied  Seymour.  **He  points  to  a  yawning 
wound  in  his  breast,  ftom  which  blood  is  streaming,  and 
seems  to  charge  me  with  his  slaughter.  *Tis  true  I  did  it, 
and  I  would  slay  him  again  were  it  to  do.  He  smiles  upon 
me  with  a  devilish  grin,  and  disappears." 

**  Have  these  phantoms  ever  visited  you  before,  my  lord?  " 
demanded  the  constable. 

''Never  thus,"  replied  Seymour,  "though  I  have  had 
dreadful  dreams." 

"Let  me  once  more  recommend  you  to  make  your  peace 
with  Heaven, ' '  said  the  constable.  "  These  visions  show  how 
heavily  laden  must  be  your  soul,  and  how  needful  it  is  it 
should  be  cleansed  of  its  offences.  Take  what  I  say  to  you  in 
good  part,  I  pray  you,  my  lord.     'Tis  well  meant." 


458  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  11^ 

**  I  know  it,  and  I  thank  you,"  replied  Seymour,  earnestly. 
**  I  will  strive  to  profit  by  your  counsel." 

"And  now  good-night,  my  lord,"  said  the  constable, 
rising.  "To-morrow  I  will  be  with  you  at  the  appointed 
hour." 

"You  will  find  me  ready,"  answered  Seymour. 

On  this.  Gage  took  his  departure. 

As  soon  as  he  was  left  alone,  Seymour  fell  upon  his  knees, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  his  imprisonment,  prayed  long  and 
fervently.  Much  comforted,  he  then  threw  himself  on  his 
pallet,  and  slept  tranquilly  till  the  gaoler  entered  his  cell  next 
morning. 

"  What  time  is  it?  "  he  demanded. 

"*Tis  seven  o'clock,"  replied  Tombs.  "Your  lordship 
has  but  three  hours  left.    At  ten  the  procession  sets  forth. ' ' 

"  Is  the  day  fair?  "  inquired  the  admiral. 

"  Somewhat  cloudy,  but  I  do  not  think  there  will  be  rain," 
rejoined  the  gaoler.  "On  a  melancholy  occasion  like  the 
present,  'tis  meet  the  weather  should  correspond.  I  like  not 
to  see  the  sun  shine  on  an  execution. '  * 

"To  me  the  weather  is  indifferent,"  replied  Seymour. 
"  Yet  I  shall  less  regret  to  quit  the  world  if  the  skies  frown  on 
me.  Thou  must  help  to  attire  me  presently.  'Tis  the  last 
time  I  shall  trouble  thee." 

"Ay,  your  lordship  will  do  well  to  put  on  your  bravest 
apparel.  You  will  not  die  unobserved.  There  is  a  great 
crowd  on  Tower-hill  already." 

"Already !"  exclaimed  Seymour,  scarcely  able  to  repress  a 
shudder.     "  They  are  eager  for  the  spectacle." 

"Ay,  many  of  them  came  over-night,  so  Mauger  tells  me," 
rejoined  Tombs.  "  He  is  without,  if  your  lordship  desires  to 
see  him." 

"Bring  him  in,"  said  Sejmiour.  And  as  he  rose  from  his 
couch,  and  hastily  enveloped  himself  in  a  black  velvet  robe, 
the  headsman  entered  the  cell.     With  him  also  came  Xit,  but 


Chap.  K]       THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION  459 

as  the  dwarf  kept  in  the  background,  Seymour  did  not  at  first 
notice  him. 

**So  thou  hast  brought  the  weapon  of  death  with  thee, 
I  perceive,  fellow?"  cried  the  admiral,  glancing  sternly 
at  Mauger,  who  was  clad  in  a  jerkin  of  blood-red  serge,  and 
carried  the  axe  on  his  shoulder. 

**I  thought  your  lordship  might  like  to  examine  it,'*  re- 
plied Mauger,  offering  him  the  weapon.  **  If  you  will  try  the 
edge  with  your  thumb,  you  will  find  it  keen. '  * 

**I  shall  try  its  edge  soon  enough,"  rejoined  Seymour. 
"  Meantime,  I  will  take  thy  word  for  its  sharpness.  What 
concerns  me  most  is,  that  thou  shouldst  not  do  thy  devoir 
clumsily. ' ' 

"Your  lordship  shall  have  no  cause  to  complain  of  me," 
said  Mauger.  *'If  I  take  not  off  your  head  at  one  blow, 
never  trust  me  more." 

**I  shall  not  require  to  trust  thee  more,  good  fellow," 
replied  the  admiral,  with  a  half-smile.  **  I  have  not  much  to 
give  thee,"  he  added,  detaching  some  gold  ornaments  from 
his  apparel.      **  But  thou  art  welcome  to  these." 

*'  I  thank  your  lordship,"  replied  Mauger,  as  he  took  them. 
"  I  told  you  you  would  die  by  my  hands,  and  my  prediction, 
you  see,  has  come  to  pass." 

*'  But  you  predicted  also  that  two  others  would  perish  in  the 
same  manner  ? '  * 

*'And  so  they  will." 

**  I  could  almost  forgive  thee  the  blow  thou  art  about  to  deal 
me,  were  I  certain  of  this. ' ' 

*'  Then  your  lordship  may  rest  as  easy  as  if  you  saw  it 
done,"  replied  Mauger,  with  a  grim  smile.  "Both  their 
heads  will  fall  by  this  axe.  * ' 

And  with  an  uncouth  reverence  he  drew  back,  and,  while 
doing  so,  discovered  Xit. 

''Ha!  thou  art  come,  my  little  knave?"  cried  Seymour, 
on  perceiving  him.     **  I  am  glad  to  see  thee." 


460  THE  CONST/IBLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  11^ 

*'  I  am  come  to  take  leave  of  your  lordship,"  replied  Xit, 
"and  to  crave  some  slight  relic  in  remembrance  of  you.'* 

**Here  is  a  brooch,"  replied  Seymour,  detaching  it  from 
his  cap. 

**  I  would  fain  have  something  that  your  lordship  may  wear 
on  the  scaffold,"  said  Xit,  with  a  certain  significance. 

*'A11  his  lordship's  apparel  will  belong  to  me,"  observed 
Mauger. 

"True,"  replied  Seymour,  "but  thou  wilt  not  begrudge 
him  my  velvet  slippers  ?  '  * 

"  Marry,  I  do  begrudge  them  ;  but,  since  your  lordship 
desires  it,  he  shall  have  them,"  rejoined  Mauger,  gruffly. 

"  Prithee,  let  him  also  have  the  handkerchief  with  which. I 
bind  mine  eyes  ? ' '  said  the  admiral. 

Mauger  returned  a  gruff  assent. 

As  the  dwarf  approached  to  take  leave,  the  admiral  whis- 
pered to  him : 

"Within  the  sole  of  one  of  these  slippers  thou  wilt  find 
a  letter  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  See  it  conveyed  to  her 
highness.     Give  her  also  the  handkerchief '  * 

"Your  lordship's  injunctions  shall  be  fulfilled,"  replied 
Xit,  pressing  his  hand  upon  his  heart. 

And  he  quitted  the  cell  with  Mauger. 

For  nearly  an  hour,  the  admiral  was  left  to  himself,  and  this 
interval  he  passed  in  prayer.  He  then  attired  himself  with  as 
much  care  as  if  preparing  for  a  fdte,  and  Tombs,  who  ap- 
peared while  he  was  thus  engaged,  aided  him  in  making 
his  toilette.  His  habiliments  consisted  of  a  doublet  and  hose 
of  black  velvet,  with  a  robe  of  the  same  material.  His  cap 
was  likewise  of  black  velvet,  adorned  with  a  red  plume. 

Shortly  before  the  hour  of  ten,  the  awful  rolling  of  muffled 
drums  was  heard  outside,  accompanied  by  the  heavy  tread  of 
armed  men.  A  body  of  yeomen  of  the  guard,  it  was  evident, 
was  collected  in  front  of  the  Bowyer  Tower.  As  the  bell 
tolled  forth  the  fatal  hour,  the  constable  of  the  Tower,  accom- 


Chap,  y^      THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION  461 

panied  by  the  lieutenant,  entered  the  cell.  Seymour  rose  to 
meet  them,  and  said,  with  a  smile  : 

"Good-morrow  to  you,  Sir  John  Gage,  and  to  you  too, 
good  Sir  John  Markham.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  both.  I  will 
not  keep  you  waiting.** 

But  few  more  words  passed  between  them.  The  little, 
however,  that  was  said,  strongly  impressed  both  the  con- 
stable and  the  lieutenant  with  Seymour's  composure  and 
firmness,  and  they  felt  assured  that  he  would  die  with  great 
constancy. 

*'Have  you  any  charge  to  give  me,  my  lord,  ere  we  set 
out  ? ' '  inquired  the  constable,  kindly. 

**  Only  this,  good  Sir  John,"  replied  Seymour,  "and  I  am 
sure,  from  old  friendship,  you  will  see  it  done  for  me.  You 
are  aware,'*  he  continued,  in  a  voice  of  deep  emotion,  "that 
I  have  an  infant  daughter,  the  offspring  of  my  marriage  with 
Queen  Catherine.  'Tis  a  pretty  child,  but  tender  and  deli- 
cate, and  I  much  fear  will  not  grow  to  maturity.  My  estates 
and  possessions  being  forfeited  to  the  Crown,  I  have  not 
wherewithal  to  provide  for  my  child. ' ' 

"Give  yourself  no  concern  on  this  score,  my  lord,"  ob- 
served the  constable.  "Your  sister-in-law,  the  Duchess  of 
Somerset,  I  am  sure  will  take  care  of  your  infant  daughter. ' ' 

"  I  would  not  have  her  committed  to  the  duchess's  care — 
nay,  I  forbid  it,"  rejoined  the  admiral,  sternly.  "Let  her 
be  given  to  the  Marchioness  of  Dorset,  who,  for  my  sake, 
I  am  certain,  will  treat  her  kindly.  Give  my  child  my 
blessing,  good  Sir  John,  and  see  my  dying  wish  complied 
with." 

"  It  shall  be  done,  my  lord,"  replied  the  constable. 

While  they  were  thus  conversing,  the  door  of  the  cell 
opened,  and  an  austere-looking  personage,  habited  in  a  cas- 
sock of  dark  stuff,  and  wearing  the  peculiar  cap  adopted  by 
the  reformed  clergy,  came  in.  This  was  Doctor  Hugh  Lati- 
mer, who,  as  already  mentioned,  had  several  times  before 


462  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE   TOIVER  [Book  ly 

visited  the  admiral  during  his  imprisonment.  A  long,  grey, 
pointed  beard  imparted  a  venerable  character  to  the  divine's 
somewhat  sour  physiognomy.  A  pair  of  large  spectacles  were 
suspended  by  a  cord  round  his  neck,  and  from  his  surcingle, 
in  a  black  leathern  case,  hung  the  Bible. 

*'I  am  come  to  attend  you  to  the  scaffold,  my  lord,** 
he  said,  coldly  saluting  the  admiral,  "and  I  trust  you  are 
better  prepared  to  appear  before  your  Heavenly  Judge  than 
when  I  last  parted  from  you." 

**At  least,  I  am  penitent,"  rejoined  the  admiral;  '*but 
little  time  is  now  left  me  for  amendment." 

'*  Enough,  my  son,  if  you  use  it  well,"  said  Latimer,  in  a 
more  softened  tone. 

**  My  lord,  I  must  pray  you  to  set  forth,"  said  the  constable, 
throwing  open  the  door  and  passing  out. 

**  I  am  ready,"  replied  Seymour,  following  him  with  a  firm 
footstep. 


CHAPTER  VI 


TOlVERrHlLl 

Outside,  as  we  have  intimated,  was  waiting  a  large  body  of 
yeomen  of  the  guard,  armed  with  halberds.  In  the  midst  of 
them  stood  Mauger,  leaning  on  his  axe,  his  features  being  con- 
cealed by  a  hideous  black  and  bearded  mask.  Two  chargers, 
trapped  in  black,  were  likewise  in  waiting  for  the  constable 
and  the  lieutenant. 

Having  mounted  his  steed.  Sir  John  Gage  gave  the  word  to 
move  on,  and  the  mournful  procession,  which  had  been 
rapidly  formed,  set  forward.  At  its  head  rode  the  constable, 
the  sorrowful  expression  of  his  countenance  showing  how  pro- 


Chap,  yil  TOIVER'HILL  463 

foundly  he  was  affected.  His  charger  seemed  to  sympathize 
with  him,  and  exhibited  none  of  its  customary  spirit.  Then 
followed  the  chaplain  of  the  Tower,  in  his  robes,  with  an  open 
prayer-book  in  his  hand,  on  which  his  eyes  remained  fixed  as 
he  moved  along.  Then  came  the  trumpeters,  with  their 
clarions,  which  they  did  not  sound,  suspended  from  their 
necks.  After  them  came  the  drummers,  beating  their  muffled 
drums.  Then  came  thirty  yeomen  of  the  guard,  marching 
three  abreast,  and  headed  by  the  three  gigantic  warders. 
Then,  after  a  short  interval,  came  Mauger,  masked,  limping 
in  his  gait,  and  carrying  the  axe  with  its  edge  towards  the 
prisoner,  who  marched  with  firm  step  and  undaunted  deport- 
ment a  short  distance  behind  him.  The  admiral  was  closely 
followed  by  Latimer.  Another  detachment  of  yeomen  of  the 
guard  preceded  by  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  on  horseback, 
brought  up  the  rear. 

Many  persons  were  collected  on  the  green,  on  the  walls,  and 
at  different  other  points,  curious  to  see  how  the  admiral  would 
demean  himself  on  this  trying  occasion.  All  were  astonished 
at  his  fortitude.  His  countenance  was  wan  from  anxiety  and 
long  confinement,  but  his  figure  was  erect  as  ever,  his  carriage 
stately  and  dignified,  and  his  looks  haughty  and  unbending. 
Nothing  that  was  passing  within  could  be  read  from  his 
features.  But  what  memories  of  other  and  brighter  days  were 
wakened  as  he  passed  along  the  wide  open  space  in  front 
of  the  White  Tower,  and  gazed  at  the  palace  beyond  it !  To 
check  the  painful  current  of  his  thoughts,  he  looked  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

At  that  moment  he  was  close  to  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  and, 
casting  his  eyes  upon  the  frowning  structure,  he  beheld  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk  gazing  at  him  through  a  strongly-grated 
window.  Their  glances  met,  and  how  much  did  that  single 
look  convey !  There  was  no  exultation  over  a  fallen  foe 
in  the  duke's  glance — no  smile  of  gratified  vengeance  lighted 
up  his  venerable  features — but  he  shook  his  head  mournfully. 


464  THE  COT^STABLE  OF  THE  TOPVER  [BoohtT 

Seymour  faltered  for  a  moment,  but  instantly  recovering  him- 
self, strode  on  with  as  much  firmness  as  before.  Norfolk's 
look  and  mournful  shake  of  the  head,  however,  continued  to 
haunt  him.     **  I  would  I  had  not  seen  him,'*  he  thought. 

The  procession  now  passed  beneath  the  gloomy  arch  of  the 
Bloody  Tower,  and  in  the  outer  ward  more  spectators  were 
congregated,  grouped  on  either  side  of  the  way.  Many 
of  these  audibly  expressed  their  commiseration  for  the  admiral, 
but  were  rebuked  both  by  word  and  gesture  by  Latimer,  who 
shook  his  staff  at  them.  But  the  ire  of  the  austere  divine  was 
yet  more  vehemently  roused  by  an  incident  which  shortly 
afterwards  occurred.  The  first  detachment  of  the  guard  had 
passed  through  the  gateway  of  the  By -ward  Tower,  and  Sey- 
mour was  just  approaching  it,  when  Xit,  who  was  stationed 
among  the  bystanders,  sprang  forward,  and  ere  he  could 
be  prevented,  threw  himself  at  his  feet.  In  another  moment, 
the  poor  dwarf  was  removed  by  one  of  the  guard,  who  pushed 
him  aside  with  the  pole  of  his  halberd,  but  he  sobbed  out 
a  piteous  farewell. 

The  most  trying  part  of  the  ceremony  had  now  to  be  under- 
gone, and  Seymour  braced  his  nerves  firmly  for  it.  Already 
the  horrible  roar  of  the  vast  multitude  collected  near  the  outer 
gate  of  the  fortress  and  on  Tower-hill  could  be  distinctly 
heard.  There  was  something  awful  in  this  sound,  and  for 
a  moment  Seymour  felt  appalled  by  it,  but  the  feeling  instantly 
passed  away,  and  by  the  time  he  was  exposed  to  the  gaze 
of  those  thousand  inquisitive  spectators,  whose  eyes  were 
eagerly  fixed  upon  him,  devouring  his  every  look  and  gesture, 
and  commenting  upon  them  as  a  Roman  concourse  might 
upon  a  gladiator,  he  was  as  full  of  intrepidity  as  before.  Nor 
did  his  extraordinary  power  of  fascination  fail  him  at  this 
supreme  moment.  As  he  marched  slowly  on,  looking  to  the 
right  and  left  in  search  of  friendly  faces,  loud  murmurs  arose 
among  the  crowd,  cries  began  to  be  raised,  many  persons 
pressed  forward,   and  it  required  the  utmost  efforts  of  the 


Chap.  K/]  TOIVER'HILL  465 

arquebusiers,  who  were  arranged  in  double  lines  all  the  way  to 
the  scaffold,  to  keep  back  the  throng. 

"Be  patient,  my  good  friends,"  cried  Seymour,  waving 
them  back.     **  You  will  harm  yourselves,  and  not  serve  me." 

But  this,  instead  of  allaying  the  excitement  of  the  crowd, 
increased  it,  and  the  tumult  threatening  to  become  dangerous, 
Sir  John  Gage,  fearing  a  rescue  might  be  attempted,  ordered 
the  guard  to  close  round  the  prisoner,  and  accelerate  their 
pace.  This  was  done,  and  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  the 
lines  of  halberdiers  were  broken  in  two  or  three  places  by 
the  rabble,  who,  disappointed  in  their  expectations  of  reach- 
ing the  admiral,  attacked  the  guard,  wrested  their  halberds 
from  them,  and  a  sharp  conflict  ensued,  in  the  course  of 
which  some  persons  were  killed,  and  many  others  grievously 
wounded.  Loud  and  fierce  execrations  were  uttered  against 
the  lord  protector,  and  he  was  denounced  as  the  murderer  of 
his  brother. 

In  anticipation  of  some  such  disturbances  as  actually  took 
place,  a  company  of  German  lansquenets  had  been  placed 
around  the  scaffold,  and  these  were  strengthened  by  the 
mounted  city  train-bands,  so  that  the  place  of  execution  was 
completely  invested.  An  enormous  multitude  was  collected. 
The  whole  area  of  Tower-hill  was  thronged,  and  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  scaffold,  which  stood  on  the  highest  ground  on  the 
northwest  of  the  fortress,  scarce  an  inch  of  ground  was 
unoccupied. 

Owing  to  the  precautions  taken  by  the  constable,  Seymour 
was  brought  to  the  scaffold  in  safety,  and  when  he  soon  after- 
wards mounted  the  steps  and  appeared  upon  it,  a  tremendous 
shout  arose  from  the  beholders. 

Hitherto  the  day  had  been  dull  and  gloomy,  but  at  that 
moment  a  slight  burst  of  sunshine  fell  upon  him,  and  illumin- 
ing his  noble  countenance,  rendered  him  yet  more  conspicuous 
to  the  vast  assemblage,  whose  eyes  were  strained  towards 
him.  Not  in  his  proudest  moments  had  he  looked  more 
30 


466  THE  CONSTABLE  OF  THE  TOIVER  {Book  ly 

majestic  than  he  did  now  that  he  stood  upon  those  fatal 
boards,  nor  perhaps,  for  one  instant,  more  elated.  But  the 
smile  which  had  played  upon  his  features  quickly  faded  away, 
as  did  the  sunshine  that  had  lighted  them  up,  and  left  them 
pale  and  rigid-looking  as  marble. 

He  had  been  preceded  upon  the  scaffold  by  the  constable 
and  the  lieutenant,  together  with  Mauger.  By  this  time 
Latimer  had  mounted  the  steps,  and  stood  beside  him.  No 
other  person  was  allowed  upon  the  scaffold. 

It  had  been  the  admiral's  intention  to  address  the  crowd, 
and  for  this  purpose  he  advanced  towards  the  edge  of  the 
scaffold,  and,  bowing  to  the  bystanders,  began  to  speak,  but 
such  a  tumult  arose,  and  so  many  vociferations  were  raised, 
that  his  words  were  completely  drowned,  and  he  yielded — 
though  with  manifest  reluctance — to  the  constable's  entreaties 
to  him  to  desist.  Taking  off  his  cap,  he  cried  in  a  sonorous 
voice  that  rose  loud  above  the  disturbance,  '*  Long  live  King 
Edward  ! '  *  The  shout  was  received  with  acclamations,  fol- 
lowed by  fresh  groans  and  hootings  against  the  lord  protector. 

Latimer  then  approached  him,  and  asked  if  he  sincerely 
repented  his  sins,  and  placed  his  hope  in  the  Saviour?  But 
Seymour,  scarcely  heeding  him,  and  anxious,  as  it  seemed,  to 
get  done  with  the  scene,  called  fiercely  to  the  executioner  to 
make  haste,  and  throwing  off  his  gown  revealed  a  figure 
which,  for  symmetry,  was  unrivalled. 

Again  Latimer  approached  him,  and  was  again  repulsed. 

Seymour  then  knelt  down,  and  deep  silence  fell  upon  the 
multitude. 

His  prayers,  which  did  not  occupy  many  minutes,  being 
ended,  he  signed  to  Mauger  that  he  was  ready.  Then, 
approaching  the  block,  he  knelt  down  beside  it,  took  the 
broidered  handkerchief  sent  him  by  Elizabeth  from  his  doub- 
let, pressed  his  lips  to  it,  and  fastened  it  over  his  eyes. 

At  this  moment  Latimer  advanced,  and  cried  out  in  his  ear, 
'*  Repent!" 


Chap,  yil  TOIVER-HILL  467 

'*Away  !**  cried  the  admiral.     **  You  distract  me.'* 

He  then  laid  his  comely  neck  upon  the  block,  and  the  axe 
descended. 

Thus  perished  the  guilty  and  aspiring  Seymour.  According 
to  Latimer,  he  died  '*  very  dangerously,  irksomely,  horribly." 
Others,  however,  judged  him  more  charitably,  and  thought  he 
made  a  brave  ending.     No  doubt  he  suffered  justly. 

Under  the  superintendence  of  the  worthy  constable,  his 
mutilated  remains  were  interred  in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel  in  the 
Tower. 

Three  years  later,  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Somerset — ^like- 
wise decapitated — was  laid  beside  him.  Eighteen  months 
after  that,  the  ambitious  Duke  of  Northumberland,  known  in 
this  chronicle  as  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  also  beheaded,  was 
buried  in  the  same  place,  within  a  few  paces  of  the  brothers 
whose  destruction  he  had  contrived. 

The  three  graves  may  still  be  seen. 


Thus  Far  the  Fourth  and  Last  Book  of  the 
Constable  of  the  tower 


CONTENTS 


PROLOGUE.— THE  WILL  OF  HENRY  VIII 

CHAPTBR  PAGB 

I     How  the  Right  High  and  Renowned  King  Henry  the  Eighth 

"Waxed  Grievously  Sick,  and  was  Like  to  Die 3 

II     Of  the  Snare  Laid  by  her  Enemies  for  Queen  Catherine  Parr ; 

and  How  she  Fell  into  it 8 

III  Of  the  Means  of  Avoiding  the  Peril  Proposed  by  Sir  Thomas 

Seymour  to  the  Queen z8 

IV  How  the  Designs  of  Wriothesley  and  Gardiner  were  Foiled  by 

the  Queen's  Wit 23 

V    Of  the  Interview  Between  the  Earl  of  Surrey  and  Sir  Thomas 

Seymour  in  the  Bowyer  Tower 32 

VI  How  the  King,  Finding  his  End  Approach,  Took  a  Last 
Leave  of  the  Princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  and  of  the 
Prince  Edward  ;  and  of  the  Counsel  he  Gave  them     ...      43 

VII     Of  the  Awful  Summons  Received  by  the  King 60 

VIII     In  What  Manner  the  King's  Will  was  Signed 67 

BOOK   I.— THE  LORD  PROTECTOR 

I    How  the  Earl  of  Hertford  and  Sir  Anthony  Brown  Announced 

his  Father's  Death  to  Prince  Edward 79 

469 


470 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTBR  PACB 

II  How  King  Edward  the  Sixth  was  Proclaimed  at  Westminster ; 
How  he  Rode  from  Enfield  to  the  Tower  of  London  ;  and 
How  the  Keys  of  the  Tower  were  DeUvered  to  him  by 
the  Constable 87 

III  How  the  Earl  of  Hertford  was  Made  Lord  Protector  of  the 

Realm,  and  Governor  of  the   King's  Person   during  hb 
Nonage 98 

IV  How  the  Youthful  King  was  Knighted  by  the  Lord  Protector ; 

and  How  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London  was  Knighted  by 

the  King 105 

V  How  King  Edward  VI.  Went  Forth  Betimes  into  the  Privy- 
Garden  of  the  Tower ;  How  he  There  Encountered  the 
Youthful  Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  of  the  Profitable  Discourse 

that  Ensued  Between  them Ill 

VI     Of  the  Difference  Between  the  Lord  Protector  and  Sir  Thomas 

Seymour,  and  How  it  was  Adjusted 124 

VII     Of   the  Affront   Offered  by   Queen   Catherine   Parr  to  the 
Countess  of  Hertford ;   and  How   Ugo   Harrington  was 
Sent  to  Conduct  the  Princess  Elizabeth  to  the  Tower  .    .    1 33 
VIII     How  Xit  was  Appointed  the  King's  Dwarf;  and  How  Og, 

Gog,  and  Magog  Craved  a  Boon  of  the  King 141 

IX     In  What  Manner    Mauger,   the   Headsman,   Foretold  that 

Certain  Lords  Should  Die  by  his  Hand 152 

X  How  King  Edward  Visited  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  in  the  Beau- 
champ  Tower 157 

XI    Showing    How    Sir    Thomas    Seymour    Prospered    in    ius 

Suit 168 

XII     Of  the   Interview  Between  Sir  Thomas  Seymour  and  the 

Princess  Elizabeth ;  and  How  it  was  Interrupted     ...    178 


CONTENTS  471 

CHAPTSR  PAGB 

XIII  How  the  Countess  of  Hertford  was  Balked  of  her  Revenge  ; 

and  in  What  Manner  Xit  Sought  to  Divert  the  King   .    .     185 

XIV  Showing  How   Ugo   Harrington   was  Adxnitted    into   Sir 

Thomas  Seymour's  Confidence 195 

XV    Of  Xit's  Perilous  Flight  Across  the  Tower  Moat  on  Paco- 

let's  Horse 205 

XVI     In  What  Manner  the  Obsequies  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth 
were  Celebrated ;  Showing  How  the  Funeral  Procession 

Set  Forth  from  the  Palace  at  Westminster 214 

XVII     What  was  Seen  and  Heard  at  Midnight  by  the  Watchers  in 

the  Conventual  Church  at  Sion 223 

XVIII     How  the   Royal   Corpse  was   Brought  to   Saint  George's 

Chapel 229 

XIX     Pulvis  Pulveri,  Qnis  Cineri 238 


BOOK  II.— THE   LORD   HIGH  ADMIRAL 
OF  ENGLAND 

I    How  Edward  Passed  his  Time  While  Left  to  himself  Within 

the  Tower 247 

II     From  which  it  will  be  Seen  that  the  Princess  Elizabeth  was 

not  Entirely  Cured  of  her  Passion 253 

III  How  the  Earl  of  Hertford  was  Made  Duke  of  Somerset ; 

and  How  Sir  Thomas  Sejmaour  was  Ennobled 256 

IV  How  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley  was  Qandestinely  Married 

to  Queen  Catherine  Parr,  in  Saint  Peter's  Chapel  in  the 

Tower 263 

V    How  King  Edward  Rode  fix)m  the  Tower  to  the  Palace  of 

Whitehall 268 


472  CONTENTS 

CHAPTBtt  PAGE 

VI     How  King  Edward  VI.  was  Crowned  in  Westminster  Abbey    278 
VII    Of  the  Royal  Banquet  in  Westminster  Hall ;  How  the  King's 
Champion  Made  his  Challenge  Thereat;  and  How  Xit 

Fought  with  a  Wild  Man 285 

VIII     How  the  Lord  Chancellor  was  Disgraced 290 

IX     In  What  Manner  the  Lord  High  Admiral  Discharged  the 

Duties  of  his  Office 294 

X    How   Queen  Catherine   Parr  Passed  her  Time  at  Chelsea 

Manor-House 304 

XI    Of  the  F^te  Given  at  Seymour  House  by  the  Lord  Admiral  .    313 
XII     In  What  Manner  the  Lord  Admiral's  Marriage  with  the  Queen 

was  Announced 321 

XIII  How  the  Admiral's  Passion  for  the  Princess  Elizabeth  was 

Revived 329 

XIV  How  the  Lord  Admiral   Supplied  his  Royal  Nephew  with 

Money 334 

XV     How  the  Admiral's  Letter  was  Copied  by  the  King    ....  339 
XVI     How  the  Admiral  Proposed  to  Lay  the  King's  Grievances 

Before  Parliament 342 

XVII     How  the  Protector  and  the  Admiral  were  again  Reconciled  .  349 


BOOK  III.— PLOT  AND  COUNTERPLOT 

I    Of  the  Arrangement  Made  by  the  Admiral  with  the  Master  of 

the  Mint  at  Bristol 361 

II     SudleyC^tle 368 

III  How  the  Lord  Admiral  Became  a  Widower 378 

IV  How  the  Admiral  Proposed  a  Secret  Marriage  tb  the  Princess 

Elizabeth 387 


CONTENTS  473 

CHAPTBB  PAGE 

V     How  the  Admiral  Sought  to  Gain  Possession  of  the  Tower  .    .  390 

VI     In  which  Ugo  Harrington  Appears  in  his  True  Colors     .    .    ,  397 
VII     How  Sir  "William  Sharington  was  Examined  by  the  Council 

and  Put  to  the  Torture 400 

VIII     The  Counterplot 403 

IX     How  the  King  was  Taken  to  the  Tower  by  the  Admiral,  and 

"What  Happened  There 407 

X    How  the  Admiral  was  Arrested 418 


BOOK  IV.— THE  BOWYER  TOWER 

I     How  Sir  William  Sharington  was  Confronted  with  the  Admiral  431 
II     By  whose   Aid   the  Admiral  Sent  a  Letter  to  the  Princess 

Elizabeth 439 

III  How  the  Princess  Elizabeth  Visited  the  Admiral  in  his  Cell  443 

IV  How  the  Princess  Elizabeth  Interceded  for  the  Admiral  with 

the  King ;  and  How  the  Death-"Warrant  was  Signed  .    .    .  447 

V    The  Night  Before  the  Execution 453 

VI    Tower-Hill .  462 


LIST   OF   ENGRAVINGS 


VOLUME  IV 

PAGE 
HENRY  VIII.   BLESSING  HIS   DAUGHTERS Fronts. 

EDWARD  VI 56 

ELIZABETH  AND  SEYMOUR   DISCOVERED 1 84 

UGO  POISONING  THE  QUEEN' S   POTION 376 


475 


Y,C !  02092 


